Cycles, seasons, and stretch breaks

Places I Won’t Be Returning To Anytime Soon No. 563,205: Kafe Bannok Coffee Roasters in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

A teenage friend revealed — in front of his mother! — that sometimes, he doesn’t want to play video games.

I suppose three months of being on lockdown will do that to even the most devoted gamer.

“Sometimes, I just feel like…why am I playing?” And when this thought occurs to him, he might get up to eat or use the bathroom. Maybe he’ll even go outside.

Human beings have a desire for growth (or at least novelty) that is hard to ignore — and even when that fails us, we have physical bodies to attend to. No matter how comfortable your bed, eventually you’ll want or need to get out of it. No matter how delicious the ice cream, you’ll eventually be full.

And no matter how much you love your work or your hobby, you will, at some point, feel compelled to take a break, slow down, or switch gears. Nothing lasts forever.

I’ve been riding a slow-down wave for a couple of weeks now. The school year ended in May, and that was a natural transition point that I’ve been finding it very difficult to overcome. My entire being said, “Time for summer vacation!” After months of shepherding my schools through the coronavirus crisis, I’m tired. My productivity is a fraction of what I’m used to. I still have stuff to do, but it’s taking a long time to get it done. I can’t push myself any harder, and I’ve given up trying.

For awhile, I felt bad about this, seeing hours and days slip away with little forward motion, just maintenance. But then I realized it is perfectly reasonable and it won’t last forever.

I take days off here and there, but it’s not the greatest time to take a vacation. I can’t go anywhere. I’d just be doing the same stuff I’m doing now — walks around town, tennis, reading, staring off into space — but without any work projects to make things interesting. So I show up, do a little work, get tired and rest, do a little more work, and keep up with household chores. It’s fine.

I know there will eventually be a day when I will sit down at my desk and see everything more clearly. I’ll tear through a backlog of 50 emails in an hour, make a dozen decisions on projects that have been on hold for weeks or months, and reach out to long-lost friends and colleagues. It will feel easy and natural. But that day is not today, and I can accept that instead of resisting it.

I have observed these same cycles in my coaching clients, employees, and students. One of my students, for instance, can be a total machine when she is on a mission. She’ll accomplish in one day what she normally takes a week to complete. It’s nice to know that she has a higher gear, but it’s not reasonable for me to expect that of her every day. It’s not necessary, either. School is more of a marathon than a sprint.

Some people fear that if they’re not being relentlessly nagged by themselves or others, they will just be hopelessly lazy and accomplish nothing. However, for me and many of the people I’ve worked with, the nagging is counterproductive. We already feel the gap between what we’re doing and what we’re capable of and we’re already trying as hard as we can to overcome it.

Instead of thinking that something is wrong with us, labeling ourselves as unmotivated or unproductive, we can quietly identify a season of reduced activity and wait it out without judgment, going through the motions as necessary. Then, when the impulse for a fresh challenge returns, we are rested and ready. We can trust that we will respond at that time — that there will be a moment that we will seek something more. We’ll turn off the television and jump into our next adventure — or at least put on shoes and go get the mail.

It’s a joy to show up and write for you every day. Right now, I’m not doing a whole lot besides that. Rather than fighting it, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go do a little yoga and trim some split ends off of my hair as I prepare for a weekend of probably doing nothing, seeing no one, and making the best of it. If another opportunity arises, I hope I can make the best of that, too.

How about you?