From the time I was in middle school until my early thirties, it seemed I was always busy. My evenings and weekends were usually filled with organized activities. Often I was the one organizing them. At my tiny college, more than once I heard the comment that the same students were involved in all the organizations. If they did one thing, they did everything. I was one of those students. I managed to stay slightly less busy than some of my friends (particularly the ones who were also athletes), but my color-coded weekly schedule had little visible space.
All these organized activities were, on the whole, enjoyable. For the most part, they energized me and gave me a sense of purpose. They padded my resume and school applications. They formed the basis of my social life. When I moved to a new town, they were how I met people and kept from sitting at home by myself all the time and becoming lonely.
But they also caused me stress on a fairly frequent basis. They competed for my attention and pulled it away from other important things like my career and family. They kept me from reflecting and from doing the deep inner work that I needed to do. These constant obligations had a way of keeping me in a reactive mode, responding to others’ desires and priorities, rather than being intentional about how I wanted to use my precious time and how I wanted to spend my life. I was well-rounded, but unfocused.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing during a certain stage of life. The teen years and extended adolescence are meant for exploring, figuring out what we want, making mistakes and finding our way, at least as contemporary Americans conceive of that life phase. But at some point, I think it’s important to step back and unbusy ourselves so that we can be sure we have our priorities in order. That means figuring out what and who truly makes us shine from within and focusing our days and energy on those pursuits and people. Because both our days and our energy are, of course, limited, and we too often lose sight of the finite nature of our time.
The process of unbusying oneself isn’t as easy as it might seem. It isn’t just a simple matter of removing all your commitments and becoming lazy. When you’re used to a structured schedule and a million things to do, learning how best to use your now-free time can be a challenge. There’s a temptation to spend it doing busywork, catching up on all the chores, getting extra sleep, making up for missed workouts. Those choices can be beneficial, but if you aren’t careful, you’ll end up with a sparkling-clean house, well-groomed lawn, fit body, and still without the slightest idea of what’s really important to you or what you want to do with your life.
Then there’s the challenge of sitting quietly with your thoughts. When fewer tasks occupy your mind, you may find that your inner voice becomes louder. Sometimes that inner voice is saying things that are neither nice nor productive. So then you must choose between attempting to drown it out with new external obligations or instead figuring out a way to unpack what it’s saying, get to the source of those internalized beliefs, and reprogram that messaging.
Sometimes life events provide handy excuses for deobligating ourselves — a move, a new job, a baby. They can make it easier to let go of things that are no longer serving us. But to really transform our lives, we have to do it intentionally and consciously. Otherwise we’ll just end up re-filling the white space with more obligations brought about by our new circumstances. Saying no isn’t always easy. Walking away isn’t always easy. But if you make the decision to build more space into your weeks and remain steadfast in that decision, you will be free to say yes to the best opportunities, the ones that fully align with who you are now and where you want to go. You’ll have the time and space to craft a life in which you truly thrive.
Here are some of the things that happened when I freed up a significant amount of space in my schedule:
