The upside of downtime
By Sharla Gorder
All or nothing.
That has been my proud mantra, on and off, for decades — with diametric consequences.
Going “all in” is both my superpower and my kryptonite. It can result in an eating disorder or a published book; a year-long hangover or a beautiful family; an emotional collapse or a successful yoga practice.
I’m good at going all in. That’s a great thing.
I’m good at going all in. That’s a terrible thing.
Yes, for better and for worse, I’m good at extremes. What I struggle with are the middles.
I came across a quote yesterday that really rocked my world. Social media consultant Charles Miller wrote: “Spend a handful of hours a day going fast. Crush a gym session. Do deep work on a project you care about. Spend the rest of the day going slow. Take walks. Read books. Get a long dinner with friends. Either way, avoid the anxious middle where you never truly relax or truly move forward.”
I can really relate to that “anxious middle” he writes about. I find myself floundering there many afternoons. I often “crush it” in the mornings — with my writing or marketing or workouts — but after 2 p.m., I’m neither able to relax nor be productive. Since most of my work is done from home, it’s easy to turn the TV on, ostensibly to catch up on the news. Or I’ll “check in” with social media and get sucked into that vortex of doom.
If I actually enjoyed those activities, it would be one thing, but the truth is, they usually stress me out. Add to that my guilt over my lack of productivity, and there I am — smack dab in the “anxious middle.”
This happens even when earlier in the day, I know I have “crushed it” — getting up at 4:30 to work on a story, teaching my exercise classes at the Y, emptying the “in” basket on my desk.
It seems I don’t know how to enjoy relaxing. This has to be a hangover from my childhood. Dad’s mantra was, “Be particular,” by which he meant, “Be productive.”
I remember dreading the sound of his car pulling up in the driveway after work. I’d jump up from whatever I was (not) doing, and start frantically doing something, anything that I thought he would construe as productive.
But a body (and mind) is not built for constant productivity. The dopamine system that governs motivation is designed to ebb and flow. Constant flow floods the system and demands a commensurate ebb. It’s a balance that, if not respected, leads to burnout, sickness, anxiety, depression and even addiction.
I have disrespected that balance too many times in my life, with dire consequences. In the short term, it causes minor inconveniences. But over time, that “all or nothing” mentality can be devastating.
I am only now learning how to reframe my whole concept of downtime. Instead of seeing it as a time of shameful inefficacy (sorry, Dad), I’m beginning to appreciate it for its stabilizing benefits.
I still struggle with truly enjoying those “going slow” activities that Miller suggested, without ascribing to them a productive purpose. Do I really need to pick up trash when I go for a walk on the beach? Do I need to read only non-fiction books that can teach me something? Does that dinner at Grand Marlin have to be a networking event?
Or can I simply sit on my deck and admire the horizon? Can I bake a batch of scones just for me? Can I write a poem no one will ever read? Can I listen to my favorite James Taylor album and simply float away?
Track ten on that album (JT, 1977), sums all of this up for me. “The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time,” James sings.
He further declares that “any fool can do it.”
Clearly, that includes me.
