Book Review: Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman
When You're Stuck at the Station: Why Four Thousand Weeks Might Be the Book You Need
6/9/20252 min read
There’s this feeling I’ve been sitting with lately—something between burnout and bewilderment. I’ve got my hands in a few different projects: trying to understand how social media algorithms work, building a subscriber base, writing my blog, sharing my world. They’re all connected, in theory. But in practice? I’ve been feeling scattered, overwhelmed, and—if I’m being really honest—a little lost.
Maybe you’ve felt it too. The pressure to make something of yourself now. To prove you’ve got value by being seen, shared, validated. To turn every moment into progress. And when that progress doesn't arrive? You start wondering if your story even matters.
That’s when I picked up a book that shifted something in me—Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman.
It’s not a productivity guide in the usual sense. In fact, it gently tears that idea apart. Burkeman reminds us that our lives—averaging just four thousand weeks—are painfully, beautifully finite. The answer to our overload isn’t to optimize harder. It’s to accept the limits, and live meaningfully within them.
Two ideas from the book really struck me.
First: “Cosmic Insignificance Therapy.” It sounds grim, but it’s actually freeing. In the vast scale of the universe, very few of our actions will echo through history—and that’s okay. You don’t have to chase eternal relevance. You can choose to create, connect, and contribute simply because you care. That’s enough.
Second: the “Stay on the Bus” metaphor. It’s this image of all the creative paths we abandon too soon—switching lanes before the magic has time to happen. I saw myself in that. In the jumping around, the constant course-correcting, the nagging fear that I’ve picked the wrong route. Burkeman’s advice? Stay on. Be patient. Let your journey unfold.
I’m still figuring out what I want to build. But now, I feel a bit more grounded. I know that my work doesn’t have to change the world to matter. I just have to stay on the bus long enough to see where it goes.
So if you’ve been feeling scattered, uncertain, or weighed down by the pressure to “make it,” I genuinely recommend Four Thousand Weeks. Not because it has the answers—but because it’s brave enough to ask the questions.
We’re all muddling through this together. Let’s do it with a bit more grace.
If Four Thousand Weeks resonates with you—or if you've been quietly navigating your own maze of creative projects, doubts, and dreams—I’d love to hear from you.
Send me an email. Tell me what you’re building, what’s holding you back, and what would make this space feel like a home for your stories too. Let’s start a community where we support one another, share honestly, and stay on the bus… together.