Over-optimising our lives: when are we just going to let ourselves rest already?

Failing and trying to do self-care better

We’ve all (probably) seen the memes about January being nine weeks long. Has it felt like that for you? Perhaps, like me, it’s been so action-packed, it’s darn well flown by.

I wrote about the different schools of thought around January and ‘wintering’, maintaining balance in a capitalist world and finding breakthroughs when the pressure’s off. Read it in this week’s article on The Loud Quiet Substack.

“The danger, of course, comes from forgetting to factor rest into all of that. Lovely, productive rest. Whether we’re doing things we’re truly inspired by or things that drain us, we have to give ourselves permission to pause”

I want to be resistant to all the pressure, but what can I say, I’m a sucker for the energy of this time of year. I get swept up in it. I’ve historically always leapt on the chance to do something new in January. In the past they have included, in no particular order, starting a podcast, moving to a brand new area on a whim, and a creative writing class, in which I made some progress in writing a dark thriller book.

I’ve not always stuck at those things, but I started them nonetheless (so many people end up feeling like a failure because of this lost momentum; but at least we tried, that’s what I say).

Anyway, this year in particular, I’ve really seized the energy of the month named for Janus (the god of beginnings). There have been some really lovely things going on; my eight-week breathwork courses, new 1:1 clients, weekend workshop collaborations, a new class at a leisure centre I’ve loved for years, diving deeper into my counselling training, and being hired for an exciting (feminist) copywriting project.

Nevertheless. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in ‘super-productive’ mode, I end up micromanaging my time. Even on weekends. Even when I (usually, ideally) take weekends offline.

And then I’m in danger of feeling like any downtime can be wasted time. I find myself filling said downtime with offline tasks. You know, just so that when it comes time to return to work, I can really focus, knowing all those other life-admin-and-around-the-house-type chores are out of the way.

You know what? I’m optimising my downtime now. Making edits on this copy while queuing for coffee. And I did it earlier, finishing off my Substack post while in the car to meet my family for a nice relaxing walk (I wasn’t driving).

It doesn’t make me proud. It makes me feel a bit erratic, a bit too ADHD. I told myself I would stop trying to do things on the go after I missed by stop on the way to college, doing work on my phone from the top deck of the bus.

But I told myself I would commit to certain things this year, and keep good habits of getting them done consistently, every week. So I factor those things into my life, come what may. And don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying so much of what I’m doing. These are things I’m passionate about and want to work on and keep improving at.

Even so.

The danger, of course, comes from forgetting to factor rest into all of that. Lovely, productive rest. Whether we’re doing things we’re truly inspired by or things that drain us, we have to give ourselves permission to pause (to shamelessly borrow a line from The Loud Quiet’s mission statement).

So there you go, I took some personal learnings from how I conducted myself this weekend. Is that the best way to try and ‘lead a good example’? Feeling I’ve over-optimised my time a bit and maybe wasn’t present enough to people in my life, but hey, I could go and write about it afterwards?

I don’t know. We’re all just out here being human. What I do know is old habits die hard, and sometimes we catch ourselves reverting to behaviours that no longer serve us. Pushing ourselves too hard, not treating ourselves lightly enough.

Just because we know better, it doesn’t always mean we do better. It’s the self-awareness and self-compassion that counts, even if it takes us a while to catch ourselves.