A Literary Prescription for
For the sense that everyone else got the timetable.
It arrives with a wedding invitation, a pregnancy announcement, a school friend’s promotion, a photograph of somebody’s new kitchen. Everyone else appears to be moving through the stages in order while you are still at the one before, or at none of them, or at a stage you did not choose. It is not quite envy, because you may not even want what they have. It is about the clock: the private conviction that there was a schedule, that other people were given it, and that you are now running late on a race you never agreed to enter. It shows up at twenty-five and at fifty-five, about careers and children and houses and simply having your life in order. These books, poems and quotes are for that feeling — where it comes from, why the timetable is mostly invented, and how people who started late got on perfectly well in the end.
“Never compare your insides to everybody else’s outsides.”Anne Lamott
Books
Three of these make the evidence-based case that the timetable is a recent invention and a poor description of how people actually develop. The novels do the other thing, which is to put you inside somebody who is in exactly this position and let you find them funny and sympathetic rather than a failure — a trick that tends to transfer.
Karlgaard was a night watchman and a dishwasher into his late twenties before anything took, and this book is his argument against the modern conviction that if you have not arrived by thirty you never will. He gathers the neuroscience on how different capacities mature at different rates, and the biographies of people who got going late. The useful part is not the reassurance, it is the evidence that the timetable everybody is measuring themselves against was invented quite recently and does not describe how humans actually develop.
Three friends share a house in London in their twenties, convinced of what their lives will be, and the novel moves back and forth to show what each one actually got: the career, the baby, the marriage, and in each case the one thing she does not have and cannot stop noticing in the others. Hope is precise about how friendship survives divergence, and how much of the pain is not wanting their life but grieving the version of your own you had planned.
The counter-argument to the ten-thousand-hours story. Epstein looks at people who sampled widely, switched late and arrived at their field sideways, and finds that in most domains they do better in the end than the ones who specialised at six. If you have spent years feeling behind because your CV wanders and your friends went straight up a ladder, this is the book that reframes the wandering as an asset rather than a delay.
Nina is thirty-two, has a career, and is watching every friend she has disappear into marriage, mortgages and babies while she navigates dating apps and her father’s dementia. Alderton is very funny about the specific indignities of being the last one standing, and much better than the comic packaging suggests on the loneliness of a group chat that has moved on to school catchment areas. Read it if you are the friend everyone assumes is fine.
Grant’s subject is the gap between where somebody starts and where they end up, and his complaint is that we keep measuring people at the starting line. He is good on the fact that the fastest learners are frequently not the best ones later, and on why systems that select early get it wrong so often. Useful if you have been quietly filed as not-one-of-the-promising-ones and have never quite recovered from the filing.
Arthur Less, a moderately unsuccessful novelist about to turn fifty, receives an invitation to his ex-boyfriend’s wedding and instead accepts every third-rate literary invitation on earth in order to be out of the country. Greer won the Pulitzer for it and it is genuinely funny, which is rare in a book about the sense that everybody else got on with it while you were still working out what you were doing.
A failed bank robber takes a flat viewing hostage and the eight people trapped inside all turn out to be privately convinced they have made a mess of things. Backman’s whole point is that the composed, sorted people you are comparing yourself to are doing this too, and are just as certain everyone else has it worked out. Warm, silly in places, and quietly consoling.
Poems about feeling left behind
A third-century Chinese scholar whose visitors have stopped coming, a Jacobean poet arguing that a long life is not the same as a good one, and a Victorian insisting your place is still open. Each takes a minute.
“The Scholar in the Narrow Street” (extract)
Tso Ssŭ, 3rd century, translated by Arthur Waley, 1918
Seventeen hundred years old, and every detail is current: the qualified man with nowhere to go, the relatives asking when something is going to happen, the invitations quietly drying up. Tso Ssŭ ends by observing that a bird in a forest can only perch on one bough at a time, and that this should be the wise man’s pattern. It is not a cure. But there is a peculiar comfort in knowing this exact humiliation had a name in the third century.
“It is not growing like a tree”
Ben Jonson, 1629
Jonson wrote this for a friend’s son who died at twenty, and the argument is a direct attack on measuring a life by its size. The oak stands three hundred years and ends as a dry log. The lily lasts a day and is the better thing. Four centuries before anybody had a career ladder or a feed full of other people’s announcements, he had already worked out that bulk and duration are the wrong units.
“Now” (extract)
Adelaide Anne Procter, 1858
Procter was Dickens’s favourite contributor and this is a rousing Victorian poem, so take the trumpet with a pinch of salt. What is worth keeping is the fifth line. She does not say hurry up and catch them. She says a place in the ranks awaits you — it is yours, it is unfilled, and nobody else has taken it while you were not looking.
Quotes & Prose
Short lines for the evenings when the announcements arrive all at once.
There are years that ask questions and years that answer.
Zora Neale Hurston
It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work.
Wendell Berry
Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.
Maya Angelou
Everyone has his own time zone. People can be ahead of you, or behind you, and both are in their own time zone.
Attributed to Dele Olanubi
A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.
Zen Shin
From Georgia
A few short practices for the periods when nothing visible is happening and it is hard to believe anything is.
Trust the Timing of Your Life
A calming meditation for the long, uncertain stretches, easing the urge to rush and helping you settle into the pace your own life is actually keeping.
Listen to the preview →When Nothing Seems to Be Happening
A steadying practice for the fallow stretches, when there is no visible progress and it is hard to believe anything is moving at all.
Listen Now For Free
How to Tell What’s Really Meant for You
A reflective talk on listening past the noise to sense what genuinely fits your life, and what does not.
Listen Now For Free
The 21-Day Meditation Course
Three weeks of short, guided meditations — something of your own to be getting on with while the larger question of timing sorts itself out.
Start the 21-Day Course →Questions people ask
Start with Late Bloomers by Rich Karlgaard, which takes apart the idea that there is a timetable and shows where it came from. If you would rather have a novel, Expectation by Anna Hope follows three friends whose lives diverge completely, and Ghosts by Dolly Alderton is the funniest book here about being the last one standing.
Close, but not identical, and the difference is useful. Envy is wanting the particular thing somebody else has. Feeling left behind is about the clock: the sense that everyone has moved to the next stage and you are still at the last one, regardless of whether you actually want what they have. Plenty of people feel this about milestones they are not even sure they want, which is one of the odder parts of it.
Lines worth keeping include “There are years that ask questions and years that answer” (Zora Neale Hurston) and “It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work” (Wendell Berry). You will find these and others in the quotes section above.
Narrowing what you look at helps more than anything you tell yourself. Most of this feeling is fed by a constant stream of other people’s announcements, and the stream is not a representative sample. Beyond that: having one thing of your own that is genuinely moving, however small, and being honest with at least one friend about where you actually are, which tends to reveal that they are not where you assumed either.