free.
I never identified with kids who watched TV after school, or went to friends' houses during the week, or slept in until 11am on the weekends. The idea that kids my age had so much free time was mysterious and wonderful. What did it feel like to have all that free time? While I chose all of my school activities and am ever grateful for the experiences I was able to have as a kid and a teenager, there were times I wanted to know what it felt like to not have sports practice after school every day, often followed by another practice for another team. There were times I didn't want to wake up at 6am on a Saturday to play a weekend volleyball tournament. There were summers I wanted to sit around all day, instead of going to my job at a day camp and eventually two-a-day practices.
In addition to sports, and homework, and AP classes, there was church, family, sisters' soccer games, college applications, and mandatory house cleaning. I had a very happy childhood - and a very busy one. When I got to college, I kept moving full-steam ahead. Clubs, intramural sports, and volunteering as a tour guide filled all the space between classes, papers, GRE prep, and the Chicago marathon I completed my senior year.
Since that time, I haven't stopped. Graduate school, jobs, cross-state moves, training for athletic events, family obligations, freelance work, teaching, writing. I always said that I worked best when I was active, busy, even stressed. Give me a deadline and I'll give you my best work. Give me till forever, and I'll never get it done. It's just the way I'm wired. In my mind, people who slept in late were lazy. People who didn't have side jobs were boring. People who had time to follow TV shows were taking more than they were giving to the world.
But this season has been different. It might be the compounding stress of another cross-state move, another new job, and a grandfather in the hospital. It might be the chill in the Boston air.
Whatever it is, it has changed my attitude towards free time. My new attitude is that I want more. (Those of you who have been in touch with me recently might find this hard to believe. After all, I spent the last four weeks complaining because I was jobless, spending most of my time at home on the couch because with no income, I had no business out spending money on anything. Also, I might have been mildly depressed. It was lonely, and boring, and indefinite. When I say "free time," I don't mean unemployment. I mean choosing to have free time.)
This week I began to re-assess my constant need to be busy. Some of it truly can't be helped. I am by nature creative, energetic, and family-oriented, and I will constantly seek out ways to engage these parts of myself. But the rest can be helped.
Yesterday I made a decision to leave the team of freelance writers and editors that I joined in Nashville. The extra money was nice, and for the most part I enjoyed the work. But this season, I dreaded receiving an email about a new client. I justified turning down easy work. I felt cheated when I did sit down and work on a client's manuscript. I wanted my time back. This led to making a list of all the things we have going on in our lives. And then a crossing off of the things that are no longer feeding us. The things that trick us into thinking we're free because we're choosing what to do, when really we're just chained to one more obligation. Each item crossed off was like a chain link falling to the ground.
My husband and I have been watching more movies together, and even made our way through an entire series (Friday Night Lights, which was phenomenal!). At first I felt guilty. Lazy. Even fat. "I can't believe how much time we spend sitting around when we could be doing other things! I could be running! I could be writing! I should blog! I need to make s'mores! I should go food shopping! I could be starting that nonprofit organization that I've been thinking about!"
But I let myself relax. And then I felt ... free.
In my fear of squandering my life, I've packed as much in as I can. I've ignored the most beautiful part of "free time," which is that it does feel like freedom. It's ok to leave it wide open. To sit. Reflect. Rest. Sleep. I'm not very good at sitting still, but I find that when I choose to be still, I never regret it. Last weekend, instead of locking us into plans, or even things we thought we should do, we went for a drive. And then we went for a hike. And then we got hot chocolate and watched a movie. It was a day that nothing got done. But at the end of it, I felt more connected to my husband and the place I live than I had in a long time.
This season (this year, if I'm honest and go back to re-read the blog posts since last October), has been difficult. Wonderful, but difficult. I truly believe that much of what I did to keep busy was to distract me from thinking about the weight of everything. That's probably true about most busy people. We took on an enormous amount in our first year of marriage. Fortunately, our marriage is strong, and we instinctively draw closer together when the pressure mounts. But we took on a lot. And that year now seems like a marathon, something I'd prepared for, waited for, and gave everything I had. The difference is that in the past, when I've finished a race, I am high on adrenaline and want to sign up for the next one. This time, now that I can slow down, catch my breath, and sit, I'm surprised at how much I want to.
I'm now more afraid of squandering the time I could spend enjoying the life I've got, the husband I live with, the city I never want to leave. I'm afraid that I'll get to my final days and say, "I wish I'd been a little more free." So in 2012, I want to think long and hard before I say, "yes." I want to consider if this activity, hobby, or commitment is worth the time it will cost. Because at the end, time is all we have. And I'm no longer willing to just give it away.
In addition to sports, and homework, and AP classes, there was church, family, sisters' soccer games, college applications, and mandatory house cleaning. I had a very happy childhood - and a very busy one. When I got to college, I kept moving full-steam ahead. Clubs, intramural sports, and volunteering as a tour guide filled all the space between classes, papers, GRE prep, and the Chicago marathon I completed my senior year.
Since that time, I haven't stopped. Graduate school, jobs, cross-state moves, training for athletic events, family obligations, freelance work, teaching, writing. I always said that I worked best when I was active, busy, even stressed. Give me a deadline and I'll give you my best work. Give me till forever, and I'll never get it done. It's just the way I'm wired. In my mind, people who slept in late were lazy. People who didn't have side jobs were boring. People who had time to follow TV shows were taking more than they were giving to the world.
But this season has been different. It might be the compounding stress of another cross-state move, another new job, and a grandfather in the hospital. It might be the chill in the Boston air.
Whatever it is, it has changed my attitude towards free time. My new attitude is that I want more. (Those of you who have been in touch with me recently might find this hard to believe. After all, I spent the last four weeks complaining because I was jobless, spending most of my time at home on the couch because with no income, I had no business out spending money on anything. Also, I might have been mildly depressed. It was lonely, and boring, and indefinite. When I say "free time," I don't mean unemployment. I mean choosing to have free time.)
This week I began to re-assess my constant need to be busy. Some of it truly can't be helped. I am by nature creative, energetic, and family-oriented, and I will constantly seek out ways to engage these parts of myself. But the rest can be helped.
Yesterday I made a decision to leave the team of freelance writers and editors that I joined in Nashville. The extra money was nice, and for the most part I enjoyed the work. But this season, I dreaded receiving an email about a new client. I justified turning down easy work. I felt cheated when I did sit down and work on a client's manuscript. I wanted my time back. This led to making a list of all the things we have going on in our lives. And then a crossing off of the things that are no longer feeding us. The things that trick us into thinking we're free because we're choosing what to do, when really we're just chained to one more obligation. Each item crossed off was like a chain link falling to the ground.
My husband and I have been watching more movies together, and even made our way through an entire series (Friday Night Lights, which was phenomenal!). At first I felt guilty. Lazy. Even fat. "I can't believe how much time we spend sitting around when we could be doing other things! I could be running! I could be writing! I should blog! I need to make s'mores! I should go food shopping! I could be starting that nonprofit organization that I've been thinking about!"
But I let myself relax. And then I felt ... free.
In my fear of squandering my life, I've packed as much in as I can. I've ignored the most beautiful part of "free time," which is that it does feel like freedom. It's ok to leave it wide open. To sit. Reflect. Rest. Sleep. I'm not very good at sitting still, but I find that when I choose to be still, I never regret it. Last weekend, instead of locking us into plans, or even things we thought we should do, we went for a drive. And then we went for a hike. And then we got hot chocolate and watched a movie. It was a day that nothing got done. But at the end of it, I felt more connected to my husband and the place I live than I had in a long time.
This season (this year, if I'm honest and go back to re-read the blog posts since last October), has been difficult. Wonderful, but difficult. I truly believe that much of what I did to keep busy was to distract me from thinking about the weight of everything. That's probably true about most busy people. We took on an enormous amount in our first year of marriage. Fortunately, our marriage is strong, and we instinctively draw closer together when the pressure mounts. But we took on a lot. And that year now seems like a marathon, something I'd prepared for, waited for, and gave everything I had. The difference is that in the past, when I've finished a race, I am high on adrenaline and want to sign up for the next one. This time, now that I can slow down, catch my breath, and sit, I'm surprised at how much I want to.
I'm now more afraid of squandering the time I could spend enjoying the life I've got, the husband I live with, the city I never want to leave. I'm afraid that I'll get to my final days and say, "I wish I'd been a little more free." So in 2012, I want to think long and hard before I say, "yes." I want to consider if this activity, hobby, or commitment is worth the time it will cost. Because at the end, time is all we have. And I'm no longer willing to just give it away.