Statue of the "Tired Man" by József Somogyi. It refers to the poem of Attila József.
Finding my Monday footing has been a struggle for the past several weeks. I’ve languished in the heat, in the smoke, in sleep-deprivation and detritus of vacation-ending late-night flights. I’ve hovered around an anxious student on a deadline, offering food and moral support, but mostly getting in the way. I’ve moved travel planning and home projects and goal setting from computer to desktop to kitchen table, advancing them barely or not at all. Thinking I could just clean through some “stuff,” I did it so slowly it didn’t really feel like it counted (who’s counting? That might bear some examination). Some days I congratulated myself on taking note of grocery and menu needs, library returns, laundry sorting, but then didn’t complete any of those loops. And I didn’t write or create. I didn’t do anything. Nothing got “done.”
And I wondered, what’s wrong?
I’ve spent my life wired for the restart. I love the promise of first days of school and changes of season. When I worked in an office, and Monday mornings meant revisiting my wardrobe, lunch options, and calendar for the week, I got a small kick from the sparking possibility of trying something new or different. I enjoy planning for the week, goal-setting, a clean slate. Even during pandemic lockdowns, I kept myself going chasing variation, incentivizing mini restarts week after repetitive week. I grew a long list of new-favorite bakery destinations!
But inevitably, we humans get tired. The race is long. It’s hard to muster “begin again” energy yet one more time. And so, I have not managed to force any August restarts this year - creative or otherwise. Instead, I slid off the productive path. I didn’t DO anything.
Instead, I walked away from non-choices and inaction to pick up a book. And got lost.
“She’s lost in a book again,” my family will say, eyes rolling. It’s their favorite pejorative for me when I can’t be drawn into scintillating conversations about recycling/composting or K-Pop. Lots of folks imply that reading immersively, for more than twenty minutes, or any time other than right before bed, is wasteful. And it certainly feels like escape from efficiency, production, busyness. But in getting lost, I find my way back to where I was trying to go in the first place.
It works like magic.
Despite the fact that we all hit walls in our work, in our inspiration, in the very dailyness of life, most of us aren’t very good with forcing restarts. Instead of wallowing in guilt about what I can’t seem to accomplish, a “do nothing” journey into a good story can sweep me out of my checklist-driven thinking and release the pressure. I give away a few hours and the sense that I can actually control my days in exchange for something more organic: a refresh.
There’s something surprisingly productive in slowing down and not trying so hard.
We all need times and spaces of pause in our DOING lives to just BE - rest for our busy brains and hands. Especially in seasons weighted down by weather - too hot, too cold, too dark, wet, or otherwise uncomfortable. A dull day, a sick one, or a frustratingly dis-empowered one (think waiting on a contractor or a call or a child) qualifies as the right motivation to let go. In these dog days of summer, I’ve reminded myself that I don’t actually have to be ON a vacation, to take a little break. However you may choose to get lost,* taking time to jump-start your battery by doing nothing for awhile is a gift you need to give yourself from time to time.
I challenge you to reframe your next slow-moving day as an opportunity to let go rather than an agony of fruitless puttering. Try getting lost, doing “nothing,” and experience the magic of unscheduled refreshment. There’s always tomorrow and the next day for the checklist.
*If not a book, perhaps music, nature, film or other no-purpose extracurriculars – you can play in the dirt without landscaping your yard or growing your dinner; how about doodling? Or try sifting through some pictures to see what you see (let these prompt you anyway you like – to write, draw, daydream, or something else!
Do you know someone who’d like to think about where to find magic in their dailyness? Share this newsletter with 2 friends and they can journey with us!
I love this, Stephanie! This is a great idea for a newsletter. I often feel how you describe. Getting lost in a book is such fun and in our business of writing, doesn’t seem like a complete waste!
I know, right? But wired for “productivity” I still somehow need to give myself permission, not just to read, but to “lose myself”