I woke up this morning and watched television in bed for a while, played around on my phone.
There was some time to kill before our daily walk with the dog, so I scrolled through my emails and half-read a few articles on Medium.
Most of the ones recommended to me were about productivity.
Has one word ever had the power to make you feel so utterly shit about yourself?
Objectively, I’m fairly productive, yet I spend half my time beating myself up for not doing enough, fast enough, in the right way.
Still haven’t made time to work on that novel.
Only completed four submissions this month and not nine.
Didn’t tidy the house.
Scrolled Twitter instead of reading a book.
Tut tut.
Why does everything we do have to be linked to productivity? Why must we measure our value in these metrics? What benefit do they really have for us?
It’s not a bad thing to lie around reading or watching telly or spending time with friends and family. You are the sum of your experiences and that should be more than work.
Work when you need to, hustle when you want, but don’t give your life to it.
If there’s nothing else but work, what’s it all for?
Lie around in your pyjamas eating chocolate, drink beer in the garden, go for long walks and look up at the sky. Listen to music, watch the dog or the children playing – be happy.
Live the life that makes you smile and question why you need to be so productive anyway.