What if we DON’T do the hard thing?
It’s 7 am on a Tuesday and I’m standing in front of my kitchen dish drying rack, willing myself to put the stack of bowls down. To stop putting them away. To go back to the couch where my book and newly made cup of tea is rapidly moving from deliciously hot to uninterestingly lukewarm.
This is an odd scene by several accounts.
First, it’s 7 am and i’m up and about. Second, it’s a Tuesday and we’re having a discussion about books and tea. And third, I’m fighting with myself NOT to put the dishes away.
Montana is to blame for this conundrum, and I do so with my whole, open, grateful heart.
Big Sky
After spending a week under the Big Sky with the magical Nat Kendall I re-remembered, viscerally, what it felt like to NOT do things. To simply be, rather than constantly do.
I realized I’d shifted my self-value from who I am and my experience of being alive to WHAT I DO and produce.
It was a hard won lesson, where even the temptation to do MORE yoga, to read MORE books, to catch up with MORE friends threatened to cramp my peaceful, hammock sleeping lifestyle.
This might sound silly, and I recognize that many would feel incredibly fortunate to face this conundrum. I certainly do. And yet, that’s no reason to miss the point.
I challenge you to ask yourself:
When was the last time you spent one whole week without being productive?
Like at all.
No chores complete, work produced or people pleased. Heck no enlightenment even reached.
I know I know, it sounds divine. And your children / work / family duties / life responsibilities would never let you have that. I understand, and I agree. But what I’m here to ask is:
Would YOU let you have that?
This retreat included mothers with young children, executives of their own businesses and, well, me. Someone who averages 60–70 hrs of work per week, and gets joy from keeping track of how many yoga classes or books or fun trips she completes. Someone who tracks the hours she spends ASLEEP, as if that’s its own accomplishment. Yup, I do that.
If you’re still with me, close your eyes and ask yourself again: when was the last time you spent a week (heck, a day) without doing anything productive?
Now notice — What do you feel in your body? What does your mind start to say? What plans and emergency plans and worst case scenario fears start to emerge? What comes up for you?
If you’re anything like me, you’ve played out the end of the world and back again before even taking a second breath.
Running Away
So back to the dish rack.
I realized while on retreat in Montana that I’ve shifted my self-value from who I am and my experience of being alive to WHAT I DO. To what I produce.
You could see this as existential, from a “what is the meaning of life, and what am I really here to achieve?” perspective. I’ve been there, but where I am now is far simpler.
If I put the stack of bowls away in the cupboard, I get a hit of dopamine. A feeling of pride and certainty in my accomplishment. Time well spent, an outcome achieved, comfort.
Close your eyes and ask yourself: when was the last time you spent time without doing anything productive?
If instead, I spent those 10 mins reading a book on my couch, I’m faced with a whole host of feelings: the lingering dread of work emails piling up, the angst of a house uncleaned or chores undone, the question of if i’m using my precious time here on earth well.
(have no fear, the existential questions will find you regardless).
By actively choosing NOT to produce, I am looking straight at the stress of my work, my relationships, or even my lifestyle, and choosing not to engage.
Stress usually rouses me into action — action that tricks me into thinking I’m addressing the problem, when really all I’m doing is running away from it.
The cup of tea is a choice to stop running. The feelings of stress or anxiety, or even loneliness or sadness, find me because I have chosen to stand still. For a moment. That takes courage.
The next hard thing
One of my favorite people (after Brene Brown, obviously) is Glennon Doyle.
Alongside her incredible book Untamed, and her and Abby’s fantastic Instagrams accounts (pure joy), Glennon recently started a BEAUTIFUL podcast: We Can Do Hard Things, born out of a mantra from Untamed that rallied many of us through the pandemic and even made it to the forefront of President Biden’s election campaign.
I have so enjoyed going with Glennon and her sister on the journey of talking honestly and openly about the hard things (boundaries, infidelity, our bodies, to name a few).
As I reflected on my life through each episode, I felt proud of the ways I’ve shown up — to difficult conversations and boundary setting; to consistently choosing my purpose and passion rather than the clearer path; to honoring my sensitive side while stepping confidently into the corporate world.
We’ve been hard at work over here, and it shows.
But why, with all this courage and achievement, am I so freaking tired and consistently low-grade stressed? What else do I need to accomplish to overcome THAT?
I realized that because I’ve made such a habit of doing the hard thing — whether at work, in relationship or even alone at home — I lost the plot. The whole point of doing the hard things.
For me, that’s a meaningful life.
To live that meaningful life I’ve worked so hard to create, I need to actually be HERE for it, rather than constantly running around trying obsessively to do the next hard, or best or important thing.
What if the hard thing sometimes is choosing NOT to do the hard thing.
To not respond to that last work email. To not squeeze in the exercise class. To not get your kid to bed on time or to their umpteenth play date. To not call the best friend back.
I’ve been doing those hard things religiously, perfectly, for decades. And don’t get me wrong, doing them has helped me create a WONDERFUL life. But what’s the point if i’m not present enough to live it? If i’m too busy achieving and doing to actually stop and enjoy the life i’ve created?
What’s the point of creating a wonderful life if i’m too busy achieving and doing to actually enjoy it?
No dishes allowed
It’s easy to go on retreat and come back with the desire to blow up your life. I’ve done that.
But the truth is, I love my life. I don’t want to blow even a tiny part of it up.
What I do want is to ENJOY it. To savor. To live. To be.
At least in my life, that doesn’t involve living 24/7 on a hammock (regrettably, there are currently no hammocks in sight). So instead, I need to create and fiercely protect the space to simply be.
It will not, I have learned, naturally emerge at the end of my to-do list.
(Well if you’re anything like me, once you’ve caught sight of the end of your to-do list you magically see NEW things getting added to the list! By you! Because the dopamine!)
So I am not dramatically changing my life. I am committing, however, to creating time to enjoy it.
And that starts with my morning tea and a book, no dishes allowed.
Will YOU let you have that?
