The joy of missing out

I’m reading a pretty interesting book right now called Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman. Like most books of this type, it can probably be summarized in a 1,000-word, or fewer, essay. But, I’m still getting some decent advice and outlook from it.

One of the things that’s sticking out for me is the idea of the joy of missing out instead of the fear of missing out. “it is the thrilling recognition that you wouldn’t even really want to be able to do everything, since if you didn’t have to decide on what to miss out on, your choices couldn’t truly mean anything.”

I see my author friends making appearances or going to conferences and retreats, and my first thought often is, “why isn’t that me?” But I don’t understand why I have that reaction because, at heart, I’m an extreme introvert. I don’t even want to be a speaker or schmoozing, so why am I envious of those who’re doing it? I have to change my mindset.

Another thing is, as The Spousal Unit is fond of telling me, that I want to do too much on my own, too: I want to weave in addition to knitting and crocheting; I want to sew like I used to; I want to make soaps and other body products; I want to bake all the things, too. Something’s gotta give though. I love my sleep and leisure time, too.

Here’s one more quote from the book to mull on for the weekend, for me, for you: “…the core challenge of managing our limited time isn’t about how to get everything done–that’s never going to happen–but how to decide most wisely what not to do, and how to feel at peace about not doing it.”