Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday

themselves of stillness, yes—but they are also closing themselves off
from a higher plane of performance that comes out of it.
Spiritually, that’s hard. Physically, it’s harder still. You have to
make yourself say no. You have to make yourself not take the stage.
A weaker Fabius would not have been able to resist attacking
Hannibal, and all of history might have turned out differently. A
long-distance runner who can’t pace himself. A money manager who
can’t wait out a bear market. If they can’t learn the art of wu wei in
their professions, they won’t succeed. If you can’t do it in your life,
forget about success, you’ll burn out your body. And you don’t get
another one of those!
We should look fearfully, even sympathetically, at the people who
have become slaves to their calendars, who require a staff of ten to
handle all their ongoing projects, whose lives seem to resemble a
fugitive fleeing one scene for the next. There is no stillness there. It’s
servitude.
Each of us needs to get better at saying no. As in, “No, sorry, I’m
not available.” “No, sorry, that sounds great but I’d rather not.” “No,
I’m going to wait and see.” “No, I don’t like that idea.” “No, I don’t
need that—I’m going to make the most of what I have.” “No, because
if I said yes to you, I’d have to say yes to everyone.”
Maybe it’s not the most virtuous thing to say “No, sorry, I can’t”
when you really can but just don’t want to. But can you really? Can
you really afford to do it? And does it not harm other people if you’re
constantly stretched too thin?
A pilot gets to say, “Sorry, I’m on standby,” as an excuse to get out
of things. Doctors and firemen and police officers get to use being
“on call” as a shield. But are we not on call in our own lives? Isn’t
there something (or someone) that we’re preserving our full
capacities for? Are our own bodies not on call for our families, for
our self-improvement, for our own work?
Always think about what you’re really being asked to give.
Because the answer is often a piece of your life, usually in exchange
for something you don’t even want. Remember, that’s what time is.
It’s your life, it’s your flesh and blood, that you can never get back.
In every situation ask: