It’s Time to Slow Down
I Voxered my coach a couple of weeks ago, desperate.
I was in the exact same position as my clients – “I have so much to do, I’m jumping from thing to thing but I can’t make it stop – the work needs to be done, V needs to be picked up, the laundry needs to be done.”
I’m reading a book about the Ruthless Elimination of Hurry.
In 1967, they predicted that with all the developments in technology, by 1985 humans would only need to work around 22 hours a week (or 27 weeks a year) and that we’d retire by the age of 38.
They were discussing how we’d fill all our leisure time, not how they’d manage the long hours we’d end up working.
Instead there I was in the kitchen, yes, using technology to speak to my coach in America, but also wired not only due to my to-do list but also due to the technology.
Messages pinging, calendar notifications filling my screen and, completely of my own actions, my thumb continually going for the same spots on my phone… email, Facebook, then to Instagram. Always to Instagram.
There are good feelings inside that app – people I follow who are friends, or who feel like friends. I check their stories and feel I’m caught up on their lives. IG serves me the best memes, that I then flick on to two of my good friends. I check what they’ve sent me and love the laugh.
And then… I’m opening the app for the 50th time that day. My favourites aren’t posting so I watch story after story of others. I get served ads, my hands start to ache… V calls me and I say “just a minute”.
In my world of Not Dead Yet, this has started to feel like dead time…
Some mornings I don’t open Instagram. I write like this, I do a longer yoga video on YouTube, and I get out my Apple Pencil and journal. I shower with a clear head, no one else’s ideas filling my mind yet.
I want this more often.
So? My December challenge. Does this even sound like a challenge because it will be – 30 minutes of Instagram a day, in the evening.
I will come on, catch up on my favourites, message you back, and post about how my day has been.
And then I’ll go back to my life.
My thumb will still hover there, but my hands will ache less. My mind will feel a little lonely wondering what you’re doing, but I know I’ll see you tonight. I’ll read, I’ll be present, I’ll miss you but I know it’s for the best.