Remember the ‘you have the same number of hours in the day as Beyoncé’ meme that was popular on the internet about a decade ago? Back in the day, it served as a fist-pumping motivator to help us be more productive (or maybe feel more inadequate, depending on your perspective), but it feels like our attitude to time has changed. In the ‘time poverty’ era, along with the multi-tasking tips and genius hacks clogging up our news feeds, there’s been a proliferation of conveniences that promised to save us time: Uber, AI and online shopping. Despite all of that, I don’t know of a single person wandering around talking about how much extra time they’ve got now versus 10 years ago. Since these supposed time-saving tools and hacks are not working, I think it’s time (!) for a different approach.
The older I get, the faster time seems to move, leaving me feeling like I’m chasing an accelerating train. So in recent years I’ve started thinking about time differently. Instead of trying to do more with less, I’m trying to do less, period. As counter-intuitive as this sounds, it makes me feel like I do, in fact, have enough time.
For years I’ve loaded up my weekends with productivity tasks and life admin (and, all too often, work), and wondered why I felt like I was never reaching the finish line, never getting the sense of reward or payoff I sought. Now there is no finish line. And as if to test my resolve, the Universe has delivered me an almighty challenge.
Last week my knee locked up and refused to straighten. After being forcibly straightened in the emergency department (thank goodness for strong painkillers), I’m now on crutches while I await specialist care, with a robotic-looking brace limiting my range of motion. Small tasks now take an age. A trip to the toilet, the room right next to my office, could be 10 minutes plus. Making breakfast, while leaning against the bench and hobbling between cupboards is at least 25. The washing pile is overflowing. I can only look at it and shrug. I have even less time than before, and there are no hacks to help me. It’s never been more important to change the way I think about what’s worthy of my time and energy.
I’ve realised in recent months that many of the things I thought were important were just a way of keeping busy, because in the west, busy is the religion we’re all indoctrinated into from birth. I don’t want my weekends to be spent catching up on chores and life admin, with exercise squeezed in where I can, and enjoyment and resting for any time left over. The only way to manage my limited time, to take control of the way I use it, is to bust out of the cult of busyness. Even before this injury, I had begun to structure my weekends with enjoyment and rest first, and chores plus life admin for any time remaining. (Of course, I don’t have children, so this is infinitely more achievable for me than it might be for someone with a young family. I also have a husband who is an equal partner, so it might be difficult for people carrying the lion’s share of household labour.)
Last week I posted a despairing blog about how depending on AI to ‘write’ could potentially stop people from practising creative expression, and cut them off from a valuable means of communicating with the Universe (you can read that here). Once again, I’m quoting screenwriter Audrey Knox, who says that the argument for using AI to save time on writing is inherently flawed.
“If I were to speed up the process and cut down my writing time, what activity would I get to spend more time doing instead? The dishes? Scrolling social media? Drinking? What the fuck are you talking about? If writing matters to you, then take the time to do it.”
I like this quote not only for what it says about the way we might use AI, but also the way we use time. We are so accustomed to the art of trying to do as much as possible in as little time as possible that we have lost sight of what we even want to do with our time, and what even matters.
Decentring busyness and centring intentionality instead feels like a radical act. It means that when I’m asked how I am, I won’t be able to automatically reply: “Busy.” I am still busy, of course, but not in the way I used to be. Now being busy is only satisfying when it comes from an abundance of activities based on these two questions:
What matters to me?
How can I spend more time doing that?
We don’t create more time by doing more so we can spend the meagre amount we’ve saved, as if drawing down on a bank account. All we can do is make better use of the time we do have, and to do that, I think, we have to start doing less, and opting out of the reflex to prioritise productivity over pleasure.
I’d love to “bust out of the cult of busyness” too! But dang if it doesn’t feel nearly impossible. Thanks for the encouragement anyway 😊 I’ll keep trying to do less 🤓