By Christina Rossetti


By Christina Rossetti(rəˈzedē)

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel(ˈkounsəl) then or pray(prā).
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve(ɡrēv):
For if the darkness and corruption(kəˈrəpSH(ə)n) leave
A vestige(ˈvestij) of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

The 4-Hour Workweek

The 4-Hour Workweek

By Tim Ferriss

If you’ve picked up this book, chances are that you don’t want to sit behind a desk until you are 62. Whether your dream is escaping the rat(rat) race(rās), real-life fantasy travel, long-term wandering, setting world records, or simply a dramatic(drəˈmadik) career(kəˈrir) change, this book will give you all the tools you need to make it a reality in the here-and-now instead of in the often elusive(ēˈlo͞osiv) “retirement(rəˈtī(ə)rmənt).” There is a way to get the rewards for a life of hard work without waiting until the end.

How? It begins with a simple distinction most people miss—one I missed for 25 years.

People don’t want to be millionaires(ˌmilyəˈner)—they want to experience what they believe only millions can buy. Ski(skē) chalets(SHaˈlā), butlers(ˈbətlər), and exotic(iɡˈzädik) travel often enter the picture. Perhaps rubbing(ˈrəbiNG) cocoa(ˈkōkō) butter on your belly(ˈbelē) in a hammock(ˈhamək) while you listen to waves rhythmically(ˈriT͟Hmik(ə)lē) lapping against the deck of your thatched(THaCHt)-roof bungalow(ˈbəNGɡəˌlō)? Sounds nice.

$1,000,000 in the bank isn’t the fantasy. The fantasy is the lifestyle of complete freedom it supposedly(səˈpōzədlē) allows. The question is then, How can one achieve the millionaire(ˌmilyəˈner) lifestyle of complete freedom without first having $1,000,000?

In the last five years, I have answered this question for myself, and this book will answer it for you. I will show you exactly how I have separated income from time and created my ideal lifestyle in the process, traveling the world and enjoying the best this planet(ˈplanət) has to offer. How on earth did I go from 14-hour days and $40,000 per year to 4-hour weeks and $40,000-plus per month?

The perfect number of hours to work every day? Five

The perfect number of hours to work every day? Five

Research shows that five work hours a day can improve productivity and bolster(ˈbōlstər) wellbeing. There’s only one thing holding companies back

By Margaret Taylor

As employers grapple(ˈɡrapəl) with how to manage the return to the workplace in the wake of Covid-19, the concept of compressed(kəmˈprest) working is making a comeback. As left-of-centre politicians(ˌpäləˈtiSHən) continue to make the case for four-day weeks, they are often forgetting evidence(ˈevədəns) that shows five-hour days may be the better option.

“Research indicates that five hours is about the maximum that most of us can concentrate(ˈkänsənˌtrāt) hard on something,” says Alex Pang, founder of Silicon(ˈsilikən, ˈsiləˌkän) Valley consultancy(kənˈsəltnsē) Strategy and Rest and author of several books examining the links between shorter working hours and productivity. “There are periods when you can push past that, but the reality is that most of us have about that good work time in us every day.”

The eight-hour working day is a relatively(ˈrelədivlē) new concept, widely(ˈwīdlē) accepted to have been cemented(səˈment) by Ford(fôrd) Motor(ˈmōdər) Company a century ago as a means of keeping production going 24 hours a day without putting undue(ˌənˈd(y)o͞o) demands on individual members of staff. Ford’s experiment led to an increase in overall productivity; but proponents(prəˈpōnənt) of five-hour days, including Californian(ˌkaləˈfôrnyən) ecommerce(ēˈkämərs) business Tower Paddle Boards(bôrd) and German digital consultancy Rheingans, say they experienced a similar phenomenon(fəˈnäməˌnän) when they moved to compressed-hour models.

Beautiful Boy

Beautiful Boy

By John(jän) Lennon(ˈlenən)

Close your eyes,
Have no fear,
The monster’s gone,
He’s on the run
And your daddy’s here,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful boy,

Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer(prer),
Every day
In every way,
It’s getting better and better,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful boy,

Out on the ocean sailing(ˈsāliNG) away,
I can hardly wait
To see you to come of age,
But I guess we’ll both
Just have to be patient,

‘Cause it’s a long way to go,
A hard row to hoe(hō)
Yes, it’s a long way to go
But in the meantime,

Before you cross the street,
Take my hand,
Life is what happens to you,
While you’re busy making other plans,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful boy,

Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer,
Every day
In every way,
It’s getting better and better,

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful boy,

Darling, darling,
Darling Sean.

I honor the father

I honor the father


By Henry H. Walker

every child is precious(ˈpreSHəs)
and the rearing(rir) of that child
deserves(dəˈzərv) the finest of instinct, decision, care,

I am in awe(ô) of the mother
within whom the life begins
and who regularly allows the best to be possible,
there should be awe when watching
a young mother swaddle(ˈswädl) the child with love,

I can be in awe of the father
for whom the rearing is more of choice
and the way forward seemingly more pathless,

the father who sees the child,
who knows the child,
who is there for the child,
can help the way open clear
for the precious within the child
to break free of the shells that can hold him and her back,

at the heart of it all, the child makes his and her own way,

now, though, I honor the father,
whose love and effort can support the child
in becoming the best possible person
inherent(inˈhirənt) within what choice and circumstance(ˈsərkəmˌstans) allow.

My sons, you are great fathers!
Thank you for who you are.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Charlie(ˈCHärlē) and the Chocolate(ˈCHäk(ə)lət) Factory

By Roald Dahl

Here Comes Charlie

These two very old people are the father and mother of Mr. Bucket(ˈbəkət). Their names are Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josephine(ˈjōzəfēn).

And these two very old people are the father and mother of Mrs. Bucket. Their names are Grandpa George(jôrj) and Grandma Georgina.

This is Mr. Bucket. This is Mrs. Bucket. Mr. and Mrs. Bucket have a small boy whose name is Charlie Bucket.

This is Charlie.

How d’you do? And how d’you do? And how d’you do again?

He is pleased to meet you.

The whole of this family—the six grownups(ˌɡrōnˈəp) (count them) and little Charlie Bucket—live together in a small wooden house on the edge of a great town.

The house wasn’t nearly large enough for so many people, and life was extremely uncomfortable for them all. There were only two rooms in the place altogether, and there was only one bed. The bed was given to the four old grandparents because they were so old and tired. They were so tired, they never got out of it.

Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josephine on this side, Grandpa George and Grandma Georgina on this side.

Mr. and Mrs. Bucket and little Charlie Bucket slept in the other room, upon(əˈpän) mattresses(ˈmatrəs) on the floor.

In the summertime, this wasn’t too bad, but in the winter, freezing cold drafts blew across the floor all night long, and it was awful(ˈôfəl).

How We Shut Down What We Want

How We Shut Down What We Want

By Leo Babauta

One thing I’ve learned about myself in the last year or so is how much I shut down what I want.

Somehow the world taught me that what I want is not acceptable(əkˈseptəb(ə)l), that I should only want what seems reasonable, doable(ˈdo͞oəb(ə)l), or won’t inconvenience(ˌinkənˈvēnyəns) others.

So I rarely(ˈrerlē) even acknowledge that I want something. I shut it down.

Here are just some of the reasons I tell myself I don’t want something:

It’s not possible, so I don’t really want it.
I don’t think I can achieve it, so focus on the doable.
Others might be able to do it, but I can’t.
I don’t have the discipline to stick(stik) to this, I can’t trust myself.
I don’t have the money for it, it would be irresponsible(ˌi(r)rəˈspänsəb(ə)l).
I don’t have time, I’m too busy.
I would feel guilty if I allowed myself to have this.
Other people would judge me if I gave this to myself.
The other person would reject me if I asked for it.
It’s too complicated.
It’s not worth all the effort(ˈefərt).
I shouldn’t want this.

Do any of these sound familiar(fəˈmilyər) to you? Wanting something has become laden(ˈlādn) with judgment, fear, guilt, and self-doubt. And so we shut it down.

What if we could have whatever we wanted?

What could you own that you want, regardless(rəˈɡärdləs) of whether you could actually have it?

What would you do if you decided you were going to make it happen?

The Overstory: A Novel

The Overstory: A Novel(ˈnävəl)

By Richard Powers

First there was nothing. Then there was everything.

Then, in a park above a western city after dusk(dəsk), the air is raining messages.

A woman sits on the ground, leaning(ˈlēniNG) against a pine(pīn). Its bark(bärk) presses hard against her back, as hard as life. Its needles scent(sent) the air and a force hums(həm) in the heart of the wood. Her ears tune(t(y)o͞on) down to the lowest frequencies(ˈfrēkwənsē). The tree is saying things, in words before words.

It says: Sun and water are questions endlessly worth answering.

It says: A good answer must be reinvented(ˌrēinˈvent) many times, from scratch(skraCH).

It says: Every piece of earth needs a new way to grip(ɡrip) it. There are more ways to branch than any cedar(ˈsēdər) pencil will ever find. A thing can travel everywhere, just by holding still.

The woman does exactly that. Signals rain down around her like seeds.

Talk runs far afield(əˈfēld) tonight. The bends in the alders(ˈôldər) speak of long-ago disasters. Spikes(spīk) of pale(pāl) chinquapin(ˈCHiNGkəˌpin) flowers shake down their pollen(ˈpälən); soon they will turn into spiny(ˈspīnē) fruits. Poplars(ˈpäplər) repeat(rəˈpēt) the wind’s gossip(ˈɡäsəp). Persimmons(pərˈsimən) and walnuts(ˈwôlˌnət) set out their bribes(brīb) and rowans(ˈrouən) their blood-red clusters. Ancient(ˈān(t)SHənt) oaks(ōk) wave prophecies(ˈpräfəsē) of future weather. The several hundred kinds of hawthorn(ˈhôˌTHôrn) laugh(laf) at the single name they’re forced to share. Laurels(ˈlôrəl, ˈlärəl) insist that even death is nothing to lose(lo͞oz) sleep over.

A Year in a School Bus: Amid COVID-19, A Family Finds Freedom Traveling the American West

A Year in a School Bus: Amid(əˈmid) COVID-19, A Family Finds Freedom Traveling the American West

By Madeline Carlisle

Paula wakes up in her bus around 4:30 a.m. most days. She can usually still see the stars. She works for a few hours, often on freelance(ˈfrēˌlans) projects using her training as a biologist, and makes breakfast(ˈbrekfəst) when her 12-year-old son Max gets up around 7:00. (TIME has agreed to grant Paula and Max pseudonyms(ˈso͞odənim) out of concerns for their safety.) She feeds their dog and cat, and then she and Max, who is on the autism(ˈôˌtizəm) spectrum(ˈspektrəm), begin homeschooling. They follow specialized(ˈspeSHəˌlīzd), skills-based lesson plans to keep his work short and consistent—at least two to three hours a day, seven days a week. By 10:00, they usually “hit the ground running” on renovating(ˈrenəˌvāt) their bus, she says. They try to complete one project a day, big or small.

Paula, 39, and Max have lived in their 35-foot skoolie—a term for school buses which have been renovated into small mobile homes—for nearly a year, often traveling across public Bureau(ˈbyo͝orō) of Land Management (BLM) land in Arizona(ˌerəˈzōnə), California, Nevada(nəˈvadə, nəˈvädə) and Utah(ˈyo͞oˌtô, ˈyo͞oˌtä). BLM land makes up one-tenth of the land in the U.S.—much of which is in the American West—and huge portions(ˈpôrSH(ə)n) are available for dispersed(dəˈspərs) camping(ˈkampiNG), or camping away from developed recreation(ˌrekrēˈāSH(ə)n) facilities(fəˈsilədē).

Aligned Solutions

Aligned(əˈlīn) Solutions

By Steve Pavlian

Aligning your life can be very challenging. By alignment(əˈlīnmənt) I’m referring(rəˈfər) to harmonious(härˈmōnēəs) interactions among your:

frames / perspectives
living situation

We all have misalignments to deal with in one or more areas(ˈerēə) of life. Are you actively engaged in correcting those misalignments to create greater harmony(ˈhärmənē)? Or do you let misalignments fester?

Misalignments have a tendency to multiply(ˈməltəˌplī). They’re like clutter. Once we start tolerating(ˈtäləˌrāt) a little bit, pretty soon we have a lot more to deal with. Letting this happen can make your life feel very burdensome(ˈbərdnsəm) after a while.

Fixing Misalignments

Sometimes I feel like the majority of my personal growth work (on the personal side, not the professional side) has been mainly(ˈmānlē) about correcting misalignments in my life. Notice what areas of life aren’t working for me, and really fix them. A big step here is to define what a genuine(ˈjenyo͞oən) fix looks like.

Choosing Alignment

To choose alignment it’s important to stop choosing misalignment. Stop going for the partial(ˈpärSHəl) match; don’t be so easily seduced(səˈd(y)o͞os) by it. Set your standards higher on the full match. Stop tolerating the sound of metal(ˈmedl) grinding(ˈɡrīndiNG) on metal as the gears(ɡir) of your life are turning. When you hear that grinding sound, learn to stop immediately, find the source of the problem, and do what it takes to fix it. Then flip the switch back on.