The Life-Changing Magic of Not Working
Or: what's energising you?
Greetings from the living room of a fancy seaside house. My job circumstances changed a little this week (more on that anon), for the worse and so, like invalids in former times, I have decamped here for a few days to a relative’s house, in order to get recurrent doses of sea air. This afternoon I went out to look at the sea in question. It was just as foaming and as bitter as I remembered, and as you might expect at this time of year, there was nobody braving the waves. Despite my recent swimming activities, I had sense enough to stay on terra firma, too, and I scurried home to write this little article, instead.
Gentle Reader,
Last week, due to circumstances outside of my control, I cancelled a day of work. Being self-employed, for this job at least, I have the luxury of being able to do so.
The day passed uneventfully and I did all the things that I usually try and do, even on working days – I went to the gym, I did some reading, I took a little walk, I cooked some food, and so on.
I find that, when I’m not working, there is still so much to do that I sometimes wonder how I managed to have a full, in-person job before – how did I have time to cook meals, to go to the gym, to meet people, and to carry out the pressing little errands which have a habit of arising in the natural course of life. The answer, or course, is twofold: one part is that I did not always get to do those things and the second part is that humans can get used to anything.
Around eight o’clock that evening, I was sitting on my bed feeling strange. Something was not quite right. What was it?
I figured it out. It was the time of evening when I usually get a huge slump in energy, and I feel ready to sleep, and yet I never let myself sleep because then I will wake at midnight or some other odd time. So, usually, I do something low-key, check the internet, watch something, and generally phase into my bedtime routine.
Not on this occasion, however. The difficulty was, that I found myself possessed of unusual amounts of energy. It actually felt quite strange. I did not feel as if I had done a full day of work…then it dawned on me. I had not done a full day of work. In fact, I had not done any work at all and so, the little spoons which can figuratively represent my energy levels, were still very numerous.
Spoon theory is a way of describing how it feels to have a chronic illness, or chronic fatigue. Each day, you waken with a particular number of spoons. Carrying out various activities depletes the number of spoons. If, for example, you waken with seven spoons, if you have to ring the gas provider, that might cost you a spoon, or if you go the gym, that’s another spoon, or you have to collect the groceries, that will cost a spoon, too.
I don’t have chronic illness but I have always been a sort of fatigue-sensitive person (for reasons which I hope to write about soon). This means that I have an intuitive sense of my current and likely future spoon count, and I act accordingly and sometimes prophylactically (to the frustration of those with abundant spoons).
I was therefore a little surprised to find myself more energetic, that evening. It seems obvious now that this particular kind of work was costing me a significant number of spoons. More significant, in fact, than I had realised, and it was exerting a silent tax on me. Not dissimilarly, I recently read about how certain athletes, despite training very hard, often do not make fitness progress. The reason is often that the stress response from their high-stress job is preventing them from making adaptations.
In this particular case, the job in question involves face-to-face consultations, and when I first started it, I was glad that I had total control over my hours, and I thought it would be easy. But I soon realised that even 2-3 hours of this work, of relentless video conversations with people who want and need something from you, can be very tiring.
Of course, it can also be satisfying and challenging and other good things too, but the net effect is that it is quite draining of energy, and moreso than I had accounted for.
Sitting on my bed, I zoomed out and tried to think of the macro significance of this. If I was using up so much energy on this very draining kind of work, surely I would be a force to be reckoned with if I could either work less or, more realistically, find work which is more energising. This latter kind of energising work, which also pays a bill or too, is quite hard to come by.
So, all the permutations and possibilities flashed past my unusually alert mind. I thought of the time I spent on sabbatical and tried to remember my energy levels; I wondered should I be starting a company and working on my own terms; I thought too about simply working away, saving the money, getting the mortgage, and figuring this whole energising work business out, afterwards.
My general sense is that, the human mind and body ends up adapting to almost everything, and if I never did this kind of work again, or even any work, I would still find a way to slump into fatigues, doldrums, general episodes of listlessness and lethargy. Some of my lost lethargic periods have come after prolonged periods of doing precisely nothing.
I reflected on the point that seems that work is necessary to energise the body and mind, albeit hopefully not the kind that drains you in the process, and I wondered what implications this would have for me.
But I did not make a decision, reader. Instead, I read a little chapter of a book about the history of Ireland, and eventually went to sleep. In the depths of this slumber, I did not know that I need not have wondered as, a little while later, a decision would be made for me. So, I slept on in pleasant ignorance, with images of the The Flight of the Earls passing through my mind, and mingling confusedly with the quotidian worries of the day.
Reader, I considered entitling this article “Spooning”, but in the interest of decorum, did not proceed. If you appreciate my decorous ways, and are not yet a subscriber, consider subscribing below.
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