Chap­ter 20 – “The Tread­mill” begins with the weary voice of a woman crushed beneath the weight of her dai­ly oblig­a­tions. Her let­ter out­lines a life dic­tat­ed by end­less engagements—sporting events, com­mit­tee meet­ings, fundrais­ing lun­cheons, music lessons, and oblig­a­tory dinners—all leav­ing no space for reflec­tion, rest, or even a moment with a book. Her sched­ule, far from being leisure­ly or ful­fill­ing, reads more like the itin­er­ary of a pub­lic fig­ure than that of a pri­vate indi­vid­ual. This exhaust­ing rou­tine is not born of neces­si­ty but of social oblig­a­tion, craft­ed by invis­i­ble rules that demand con­stant vis­i­bil­i­ty. Through her expe­ri­ence, the author unveils a broad­er social dilem­ma: the pur­suit of self-cul­ti­va­tion is con­stant­ly dis­rupt­ed by the demands of con­for­mi­ty. The tread­mill becomes a metaphor for the cycli­cal bur­den of par­tic­i­pa­tion, where slow­ing down is viewed as neg­li­gence, and with­draw­al as fail­ure.

Anoth­er strik­ing exam­ple fea­tures a por­trait artist frus­trat­ed by his subject’s inabil­i­ty to sit for even one unin­ter­rupt­ed ses­sion. This woman, admired for her beau­ty and social charm, is so swept up in engage­ments that even the act of being paint­ed becomes a logis­ti­cal night­mare. Between the­ater out­ings, char­i­ty ban­quets, and calls from admir­ers, time for per­son­al still­ness is per­pet­u­al­ly sac­ri­ficed. The artist’s patience wears thin, not from artis­tic strain but from sched­ul­ing bat­tles. This sto­ry mir­rors the ear­li­er com­plaint, empha­siz­ing how mod­ern life trades mean­ing for motion. Artis­tic pur­suits, which require qui­et and atten­tion, can­not com­pete with the allure of social sta­tus or the com­pul­sion to “stay seen.” The por­trait, nev­er com­plet­ed, becomes a qui­et sym­bol of how beau­ty and poten­tial can be lost in the cur­rent of con­stant busy­ness.

Chap­ter 20 – “The Tread­mill” digs deep­er to uncov­er the root of this exhaust­ing loop: the inabil­i­ty to say “no.” Polite­ness, habit, and fear of exclu­sion dri­ve individuals—particularly women—to accept every invi­ta­tion and ful­fill every request. This unspo­ken rule turns once-option­al social cus­toms into manda­to­ry events, with peo­ple attend­ing out of oblig­a­tion rather than desire. Over time, once-mean­ing­ful rit­u­als, such as New Year’s calls and for­mal after­noon teas, lose their pur­pose and become the­atri­cal rou­tines. Inter­est­ing­ly, the chap­ter notes that men have qui­et­ly begun to step back from these con­ven­tions, choos­ing instead to spend time in ways that feel more per­son­al or restora­tive. Their sub­tle resis­tance sug­gests that the choice to opt out is pos­si­ble, and per­haps even nec­es­sary.

The chap­ter doesn’t con­demn social engage­ment alto­geth­er, but rather urges a more con­scious approach to par­tic­i­pa­tion. Send­ing cards instead of attend­ing every call or gath­er­ing is pro­posed as one prac­ti­cal solu­tion, espe­cial­ly when such cus­toms offer lit­tle emo­tion­al reward. These alter­na­tives pre­serve con­nec­tion while allow­ing indi­vid­u­als to reclaim time for cre­ativ­i­ty, soli­tude, or mean­ing­ful con­ver­sa­tions. The empha­sis is on inten­tion­al living—choosing activ­i­ties that nour­ish rather than drain. By advo­cat­ing for strate­gic with­draw­al, the author does not pro­mote iso­la­tion, but bal­ance. This per­spec­tive encour­ages read­ers to break the cycle of per­for­ma­tive atten­dance and redis­cov­er the val­ue of time spent authen­ti­cal­ly.

In many ways, Chap­ter 20 – “The Tread­mill” offers a sur­pris­ing­ly mod­ern cri­tique of social burnout. The par­al­lels to today’s cul­ture are strik­ing: dig­i­tal cal­en­dars filled with back-to-back meet­ings, social media that rewards con­stant activ­i­ty, and the lin­ger­ing fear that miss­ing an event means miss­ing out on rel­e­vance. The tread­mill has evolved, but its mech­a­nism remains the same. Social pres­sure, whether face-to-face or vir­tu­al, con­tin­ues to dic­tate the pace of mod­ern life. This com­men­tary is not nos­tal­gic for sim­pler times—it’s a call to action. The mes­sage is clear: ful­fill­ment doesn’t come from the num­ber of box­es checked on a cal­en­dar, but from the qual­i­ty of what fills one’s time.

Chap­ter 20 – “The Tread­mill” ulti­mate­ly invites read­ers to pause and ask what dri­ves their busy­ness. Is it gen­uine con­nec­tion, per­son­al growth, or the qui­et pres­sure to main­tain appear­ances? It encour­ages peo­ple, espe­cial­ly women, to assert agency over their sched­ules and cre­ate space for what mat­ters most. Rejec­tion of out­dat­ed cus­toms and the adop­tion of thought­ful alter­na­tives is por­trayed not as rebel­lion, but as self-respect. The chap­ter clos­es not with res­ig­na­tion but with possibility—the idea that step­ping off the tread­mill is not aban­don­ment, but a con­scious choice to walk in one’s own direc­tion. When the rhythm of life is cho­sen rather than imposed, mean­ing can re-enter even the sim­plest moments.