A frivolous waste of time or active rest?
Determining value and the ROI of squandering time and energy (sometimes)
I wasted some time this week. It felt illicit, like I imagine bunking off school would. I had a list of necessary To Dos, but I was 'tired and wired' from an important social event over the weekend. Since I am the sort of 'good girl' who gets a thrill from ticking off a list item, this strong case of the 'don't wannas' surprised me enough I gave it some attention. When I noticed the strength of my yearning, I decided to respect my body's knowing.
My carer took me to my favourite homewares store and we did a slow lap looking at lovely things. There wasn't a single thing I needed to buy, and really none I wanted to buy at that moment. We ended our jolly with coffee and a sandwich at the cafe.
I could feel my jangled spirit winding down. It reminded me of weekends back in the Before Times.
That weekend feeling… is rare when you manage chronic illness
It struck me, later, that I almost never have that weekend feeling any more. If I'm not diligently doing an essential daily living task like cooking or just enough cleaning to manage, then I'm diligently resting or diligently planning out my necessary medical and support sessions so they're not too exhaustingly close together.
I seldom have free time and even when I do, I'm limited by my physical capacity (or incapacity).
On that sunny morning, I had enough physical energy to wander gently through attractive space, and doing that didn't require much in the way of either brains or emotional regulation. It was just living. Since it was not happening inside my flat, I wasn't surrounded by undone tasks or craft projects waiting for enough available brain power to get me over a tricky bit. I was just… out and about… being.
It's an added relief that with a paid carer, I'm not ruining my friends’ fun I have to pull the plug half-way because I've overestimated my capacities. The fear of needing to ask loved ones to take me home mid-event, or even when an outing has barely begun, is an added stress on those of us with invisible chronic illness. So is fearing the consequences if instead I suck it up and push past my limits—if that's even possible. These thoughts aren't front of mind. It's not something I ruminate on, rather its a fact of life, one of the daily risk assessments I have to run.
It's tricky to feel like I'm taking a break with all of that going on, plus whatever current symptoms I'm dealing with as well.
The week before, I had my monthly massage, as recommended by my exercise physiologist (EP). My EP asked me how long the greater ease lasted after the massage. I feel wonderful for a good couple of hours and I sleep well that night, then I feel less 'crunchy' in my range of movement for around three to four days. My EP suggested that was a pretty good investment of time and money. I agree.
A waste of time, or something else?
I mentioned that so was my 'waste of time' outing, which has carried me through the a bad change-of-season migraine and the PEM crash that follows any social function involving more than one or two people.
My EP reminded me that there are more types of resting than lying in bed or on a sofa, and that any time my body is capable of it, investing in restful activity would be of great benefit, productive, even. My EP warned me that the more I am able to do, the more I need to build in active rest. Otherwise I'll quickly undo any gains I make.
The kicker was when they said, "You have to use your extra energy for the thing that is highest value.” My mind immediately went to tasks and to dos, seeing my expression, they added:
"By highest value, I mean the thing that will give YOU and your wellbeing the greatest return on investment."
The ‘afterglow’ of doing the dishes is half an hour
Oof. The ‘afterglow’ of doing the dishes is around half an hour, so not a great return, actually, unless things have got really out of control in my domestic arrangements.
I'm finding it uncomfortable to be honest about this, to admit that more bunking off (active rest) really would give me a greater return. It has me wondering, what would happen if I gave myself permission to do active rest more often, even (dare I say it) regularly?
Thank you for reading, your time and attention are a gift.
Over to you
What small moment lightened your day? (Today, yesterday, recently?)
Can you recall other small moments that linger in your memory when day to day has faded? Is there anything that links these together?
Take five minutes today— soon after reading this would be ideal—do something frivolous, something that will lighten your heart and mind. How do you feel afterwards? How do you feel a day later? Something to think about.
Sitting in the sun, eating lunch, after a very satisfyingly productive morning clearing gardens of the summer crops, preparatory to planting the winter/spring ones.
And realised that I wasn’t the only one pleased with the work. The blue fairy wrens and red-browed finches were ecstatic at the freshly turned-over soil.
I couldn’t disturb them, now could I?
So I was forced - forced, I tell you! - to sit on my comfy outdoor lounge chair, watching and listening to the Dance Of The Little Bitty Brown Birds as dozens flitted busily from bed to bed, chirping cheerily to eachother and calling over their friends.
Only when they left did I move.
Worth it.
"I wasn't surrounded by undone tasks or craft projects waiting for enough available brain power to get me over a tricky bit. I was just… out and about… being." I love that last phrase abut being out and "being". The tension between this and our "to do lists" seems a key one to negotiate well to support our wellbeing. Thank you for this insightful essay.