Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you. ~ Anne Lamott
Like some of you, dear readers, I find it incredibly simple to solve other people’s time management issues. Feeling stressed because you’ve over-committed? You’d prefer to resign from the executive board of the Blah, Blah, Blah group, but no one else wants the position. If you don’t stay, the whole kit and kaboodle will fold. Will it? Or will someone else step up if you step back? And just how important is the mission of that group, anyway?
Many of us have friends and acquaintances with whom we’d like to have that honest conversation. Today I’m trying to have that conversation with myself, and you are welcome to tag along as I share my thoughts, exactly. Yes, I did that on purpose. 😉
Behavior & Opportunities for improvement
While I don’t believe I have ever thought my departure from any job, group, or project would diminish the effectiveness of said jobs, groups or projects, I have often been reluctant to abandon responsibilities, even with proper notice. Here are a few reasons I might use, You know. To stay. You might recognize some of them, too.
If I leave, people will think I’m:
- Lazy/a loser
- Depressed
- Miffed about something silly
- Having family issues
- Selfish
Maybe some of those bullet points are spot-on. Maybe not. However, our perception is our reality either way. We can’t change the latter, but we can work on the former. In a blog site called Wait But Why, I read about the Social Survival Mammoth. That’s the pressure you feel to do what you’re expected to do, regardless of other stressors in your life. While it’s healthy for individuals to have some degree of concern about meeting society’s expectations, there’s a limit to how much we can take on and execute effectively.
Work. Rest. Allow your mind to empty.
Issue with overloads
During most of my life I had a job of some sort–babysitting, grocery store cashier, and then multiple positions in the insurance industry. All told, spanning over 55 years. Between the job of the day and my children and my husband–plus educational endeavors–I had little time for discretionary activities. Post-retirement, I have exercised less discretion in available options than a sugar-crazed eight-year-old in Hershey’s Chocolate World. Fun for a little while, but pay day’s coming with pressure or anxiety or frustration.
And then, there are health considerations. Lately I have had some short-term memory issues that are concerning. I don’t know whether there’s a direct correlation to my recent squirrel tendencies, (verb meaning), or if it’s something else. If it’s the former, I am doing myself no favors by accommodating my need to jump into so much, no matter how gratifying. That, and I haven’t spent nearly the time on music–dulcimer and piano keyboard–that I need to. Yet another few rabbit holes that I love to fall into.
I have begun thinking about a better way to allocate my time. It serves no one to have a full dance card and dance badly. I am here for a reason which will be best accomplished if I consider my talents and direct my focus in that way. Spelling? Yep. Grammar? Most of the time. Laundry? Absolutely. Public speaking? Love it. Not sure any of that moves the needle, but you never know.
What now?
So, prioritizing time investments will be a start, but there’s more. I’ve thought of another way to make my life better, and perhaps improve the life of someone else. However, it’s a skill set I don’t have. Ironically, it’s the point of this post.
To state it plainly, I don’t know how to relax. You know, live in the moment. Sit without writing or reading or crotcheting. This likely has roots in my childhood where the word lazy was truly a four letter word, the only one I knew at that time. If you weren’t being productive, you’d better start doing something that was. But that was decades ago, and I am at least theoretically the master of my fate. I need to learn.
One day I’ll be as useful as I’ll ever be by simply listening to someone who needs to talk. You know, with my full attention. Practicing for that might entail writing without background noise or driving through the mountains without listening to a podcast or an audiobook. I am fully aware that no human can multitask and accomplish concurrent tasks well. It’s physiologically impossible, so why do I try? Even the best equipment needs to power down occasionally. Perhaps if I sit quietly with my thoughts long enough, I’ll receive answers. Because He may be talking, and I definitely want to hear that conversation.
You?
Lazy being a four letter word definitely hit home but I don’t see that as a bad thing. It worked for us. We have choices now that for most of our lives, we did not. We know what makes us happy. The religion based programing of “an idle mind is the devils workshop” may have worked in the working years but may have hit its expiry date.
My problem is that too much appeals to me, and I need to shake off the things I’m least attached to. Still painful. And not religion-related. 😉
I hear you, Sister! I’m exactly the same way. I’m hardwired to always be busy, not taught to be that way, but it’s a curse nonetheless. It has helped me tremendously to be retired. I now have time to actually think before I jump in and try to be the savior of some volunteer effort that will surely collapse if I’m not there to save it. I ask myself if it’s truly an endeavor I would enjoy, or one that truly needs my specific involvement, then decide. It’s a constant struggle. Perhaps we need to organize a 10 step self-help program for this disorder… 😀
So that’s your answer? Another group? 🙄🤦♀️🤣 I see what my problem is – I’m not stopping to think. Seriously. I am interested in way too many things that I didn’t have time for before and now that I’ve selected to much, I don’t have time for some of those. It’s hard to let anything go, though. Sigh.
I get it! I am the eldest of five siblings so I was hardwired to be busy as well. I have told more than one person that I was born old. To some degree, I think it is an issue with perfectionism. My former co-workers had told me they loved my initial assessment and data collection on new patients. I told them it’s called OCD, and it is a curse! I’m much better at sitting and just reading now or anticipating the next getaway from home for service or just for strictly pleasure.
You are doing a better job of retirement than I am. Clearly.