I’ve been taking a bit of a digital sabbatical during the end of these dog days of summer to enjoy the scent of chlorine, my kids’ bleached summer hair, strawberry shortcake ice cream bars and the best tomato season. I would love to say it was intentional (as I seek to be intentional about most things) but the fact of the matter is, I’m just tired. I won’t be so dramatic as to say it felt like a physical assault every time I opened a social media account…but my visceral responses would argue otherwise.
Having a day job in marketing that requires content creation/copywriting/editing short and long-form content including manuscripts, my days are endlessly filled with blinking screens, glaring deadlines, and a host of other digital maladies I’m sure we’ve only scratched the surface of. Because of my tight schedule and desire to always “perform to the best of my ability” I’ve been quite taken with the idea of optimizing my time. I was hoping to avoid the kind of burnout that leaves you staring into space, wondering what you actually did with your life. Turns out, the hamster wheel of optimization got me there faster than anything else. Looking at it from a different perspective, there are a few reasons for that.
You Can’t Optimize Someone Else’s Time
To truly optimize one’s time, your time must be your own. I have rarely (if ever) read or followed a creator with a very strict optimized life who wasn’t single or had a partner who shoulders the weight of childcare (or was wealthy with disposal income, for that matter). My time is not my own. I have two children, a full time job, an ancient house and a demanding dog, and while I have a supportive and engaged spouse, there is no erasing the demands on my time. Don’t let someone who doesn’t intimately know the ins and outs of your life (and be careful even with them) dictate how to live it.
This World is Not My Own (And Other Lies)
An uncommon observation, but an important one is this “trendy” optimization for longevity is triggering to those of us with a background in high-control religious systems. There is a popular phrase said by some creators I LOVE that I hadn’t realized was re-traumatizing my brain. That is the, “Do something now that future you will thank you for” and other iterations. While I don’t disagree with the overall message, doing things now to benefit me “later” is blantantly reminiscent of the sentiment that “this world is not my own” and the afterlife is really where it’s at. It removes the present from the equation entirely, making me feel like the future is an unattainably tangible as streets of gold. In short, I’m defeated before I begin, disassociated with my own self and what’s happening in the now, and miss both the present and the future in a state of unnecessary paralysis. This serves no one.
What Are We, Human?
I have never once in my life had a repeat day. A day in which the exact thing that happened the day before, happened again. I have some elements that remain the same (coffee left in the french press made for me by my husband, a dog walk in the afternoon, blocks of time for working and meal prepping and driving to soccer practices and play rehearsals and orthodontist appointments), but even those vary on any given day. Why, then, would I think an optimized schedule set in stone would actually work for human beings? My rigidity in schedules, routines and rituals highlights some OCD tendencies and while sometimes these can be comforting and good, most of the time it’s restrictive, limiting and perpetuates a kind of “all or nothing” thinking that is enormously unhealthy (for me).
I’ve been holding this question up to the light for the last few weeks and I forced myself to remember the last time I navigated one of the hardest seasons of my life. Drowning in debt, fear, instability and uncertainty during that time, I also managed to care for myself startlingly well. How was it, I have wondered, that at a time when I should have crumbled completely, I rose? And was healthy? And juggled more than I am currently? Much, much more?
And I remembered.
I knew tomorrow was coming. I knew the next month was coming. I knew a future, if I was lucky enough, was sitting there waiting. But I didn’t have time for that shit. I only had time for today. I remember willing myself to get out of the bed in the morning, looking at myself in the mirror, and telling myself how life was worth living. For myself- and my girls. That I had enough food, shelter, gas in the car for today. That I had a group of friends and family who loved me. And that was enough.
I remember eating with my health in mind- all of my health. My body, and my heart. Nothing was restricted, nothing was wasted. I remember moving my body in ways I haven’t since- because movement in my body equalled movement in my brain and I couldn’t afford for my brain to be stagnant. I remember letting people in to help for the first time. Friends and family who would drop by to sleep on my couch, send groceries, make breakfast, drop my kids off at daycare. And I remember letting go. It was the first time I looked anxiety in the face and told her that while I knew she would always have a room in my house, she did not have the key and I owned the building. I was the boss. I didn’t have time to wonder if I had enough credentials to fit the bill. I didn’t have time not to trust myself. I didn’t have a choice.
I have a choice now. And while I still find data and research around longevity interesting, I more often than not find it steeped in privilege, bias and irrelevant to my own life. I don’t think wildly abandoning future plans is the way to go, either for reference. (I still have a retirement account, don’t panic). I am also in no way, shape or form judging you if you find some circulating practices helpful. The point is- I know what’s helpful for ME. And that changes every day. I’m only human, afterall.
Books That Helped Shape My Perspective
Here are some resources I’ve found that more closely align with how I feel about approaching my own life in a way that is human, full of grace and forgiving.
Kate Northrup’s Do Less was remarkably eyeopening as a woman. While not overt, there is a great deal in this book that highlight’s women’s cycles, and how the patriarchial systems that exist were never meant for us. (duh.) I often refer to it. (Anyone else obsessed with moon cycles right now?)
Greg McKeon is best known for his first book Essentialism, and while I loved it, it didn’t change my viewpoint like his second, Effortless did.
Kendra Adachi has been a voice I’ve trusted for years on how to decide what’s best for me. Her approach has always felt genuine and supportive, and her first book The Lazy Genius Way helped inspire some routines I still implement years later ( Sundays we roast a chicken, Thursdays are leftover/fend for yourself night, I buy a set of 100 cards every year to use for every birthday party and we only give giftcards and books, etc.) So much practical guidance that you can shift and change to fit your life on any given day without being prescriptive or limiting.
Kendra makes an appearance again because her unreleased book The Plan is a complete game-changer. (I was lucky enough to get an advanced copy). You should pre-order it here.
Appreciate the book recs! Appreciate your reminders to be present in the now. Future Mandy will be grateful, too!
Love this, relate too much. Sidenote, point #3, as someone who has been there far too much... my own journey has taught me that what I thought was OCD is, when accented by rigidity/B&W thinking in particular, much more emblematic of ASD. Getting diagnosed as being on the spectrum has made so many things make a lot more sense and given me many more tools to try, helpful lenses to switch to. Trouble is, getting diagnosed as an adult is difficult and blasted expensive; reading up on it and learning more about the condition from others who have it was a lot more helpful in practice, and that comes free on the internet. Sharing in the event any of this helps you feel seen/supported a little more!