There once was a man who lived in a house filled with clocks.
Grandfather clocks in the hall.
Pocket watches on chains.
Digital faces glowing on the bedside table.
At first, he thought the clocks would make him productive. If he could see the hours, he would never waste them. But the opposite happened.
When he had a day to finish a letter, he took a day.
When he had a week, the letter stretched itself across the week.
And when he gave himself a month… the ink didn’t touch the page until the night before the deadline.
The work wasn’t growing — his time was. And the longer it grew, the more space it occupied with hesitation, distraction, and delay.
One evening, weary of his own procrastination, the man wandered into an old antique shop. Among the relics was a strange clock: it had no numbers, no hands, only a single phrase etched into its face:
“Not all time is equal. Use it as if it is scarce — because it is.”
Something in him shifted. He carried the clock home, set it on his desk, and began a small experiment.
He shortened his hours.
He gave himself sharper deadlines.
He worked in bursts instead of marathons.
And to his surprise, the tasks that once took days were finished in hours. The projects that used to sprawl into weeks compressed into focused afternoons.
He realized the truth:
It was never the work that consumed his time.
It was the space he allowed it to fill.
From then on, the man still lived in a house of clocks — but only one truly mattered. The one that reminded him that time, though endless on the walls, was finite in his life.
Work swells to fill the container you give it.
Give it less space, and you’ll uncover hidden efficiency.
Deadlines are not cages — they are chisels. They carve away the unnecessary and leave behind what truly matters.
Your life is not measured by how long you keep busy, but by how wisely you choose the time you have.
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