Double up

A good hike is not about being productive, but it still leaves me with a pleasant sense of accomplishment.

A good hike is not about being productive, but it still leaves me with a pleasant sense of accomplishment.

I lost some momentum in my life shortly after college.

I spent a few months volunteering full time, then came “home” to my parents’ house where I tried to figure out what was next. As the Beatles’ song goes, “Out of college, money spent/see no future, pay no rent.” It was summertime, and I had a job lined up for September—a job I was dreading—and nothing until then.

I was so used to being busy that I didn’t cope well with all of the free time. I tried to practice music and write songs, which I had always longed for more time to do, but it felt like dropping coins into a bottomless well.

Eventually, I found a summer job, but that didn’t take away the shame of feeling so lazy and aimless. When I started my “real job” teaching music at two public schools, there was a part of me that still felt lost.

I was soon so busy with that teaching job that I had very little free time. It would have been nice to have been able to make the most of the free time when I had it, but I hadn’t known how. My intense teaching schedule was tinged with layers of regret.

These days, much older and hopefully wiser, I am better able to handle unstructured time. Sort of. What I actually do is create a structure for that time so that I’m not faced with endless empty hours unless I want to be.

When it comes to the workday, not having enough stuff on my to-do list can create a listlessness that makes me not want to do anything. The less I have to do, the more likely I am to feel resistance to doing the work. (For me, this resistance usually manifests as a sudden fatigue.) It turns out that I do much better if I double up. Instead of four hours of work, I’ll plan eight. Instead of writing one letter of recommendation, I’ll write two.

With more to do, I do more. I feel the satisfaction of accomplishment instead of the misery of procrastination and wheel-spinning. With more to do, I am more focused, more confident, and honestly—happier.

Of course, the good feelings that come from being satisfyingly busy can’t last forever. Before long, I’m at risk of being tired and burnt out. So then (duh) it’s time for some time completely off—a weekend or even a vacation. Having done “extra,” I am certainly entitled to the free time. However, even then, I’ll add structure so that I’m not bored. I’ll plan outings and projects so that there’s always something to look forward to. This has been particularly important during the pandemic.

I’m not used to not being busy. Even though I’ve been a small business owner for virtually all of my career, my time was always spoken for. I’ve always had somewhere to be. Now, with more time and more choices, I’m seeing that I will do better combining two days’ worth of work into one. Then, at worst, I have only one day to feel unmoored instead of two.

If I try to think of one idea for a blog post, my mind is empty and I can’t write. If I up the ante and challenge myself to write two blog posts instead, the fresh constraint suddenly stimulates my imagination and my brain gets into gear.

With an entire day to play music, I get overwhelmed and come up with nothing. On the other hand, if I pick up a guitar between two meetings, I will play through a few songs and maybe even write one. In doing so, I may wistfully imagine having more time for music, but the truth is that more time doesn’t guarantee better results. More focus is what makes the difference for me, and I find that it’s easier for me to focus when I have greater constraints.

If you have a bit of control over your time, you might find that doubling up and doing more will increase your productivity and sense of well-being. Follow that with a period of rest or recreation, adding as much structure as you need in order to have a sense of pleasant anticipation about it. Then, you may find that you have the best of both worlds.

Does any of this resonate, or am I just a total weirdo? I’d love to hear what you think.

And if you are drowning in ten- and twelve-hour days like I used to, please get in touch—maybe I can help.