The most productive thing to do is nothing at all (and why that is)
We had a little downtime at school recently—a spirit day, with an afternoon full of activities, makes actual productivity an elusive feat on a Friday. So the task at hand was to read Jane Eyre, but most of my students were not reading.
One student sitting close to my desk shared an offhanded observation about Jane’s character development, which we discussed for a moment. I think I then mentioned something about grading or planning for next week, and this student asked me about how I remain disciplined and motivated, citing difficulties keeping up with our reading schedule.
A big question for a spirit day, I must say. On these days we wear jeans, we are lax on rules, and we have a little fun, but this student always asks the big questions, so I should not have been surprised.
A useful aside: I teach AP Literature to high school juniors. I’ve been teaching since 2011, and have taught all grades, 6-12, with most of my time spent teaching high school freshmen and juniors. Currently, I teach three sections of AP Literature in the morning and work as our building’s instructional coach in the afternoon.
Back to the big question, despite the jeans and the spirit day of it all. First, it was validating for a student to recognize the work and discipline that goes into being a teacher. For students to appreciate the planning, the grading, the dog-and-pony show that teachers put on to get them thinking compelling, important thoughts about Jane Eyre—that’s the kind of thing that keeps us going. The kind of thing that keeps me going, anyway.
I can’t recall my exact answer at this point, because I’ve slept (not enough) since then, but it went something like this: teaching my students is a worthwhile cause. It feels noble and meaningful. Showing up for them—grading their work in a reasonable amount of time, planning engaging lessons, cultivating a productive classroom culture—it feels deserving of my energy, in the same way that driving an hour round trip from work to pick up both of my kids, and then chasing them around all evening—filling snack bowls, making dinner, soothing upsets, reading stories—is even more deserving of my energy.
I went on to explain that I prioritize what is important to me, but there is plenty that I don’t get around to—mostly things for myself. Some of these things are little, like finally choosing a sweater shaver and just ordering it off Amazon, because every influencer ever says that it is a *game changer* and will *save my sweaters*. Some of these things are bigger, like finding time for a date night in, or investing more in creative pursuits (like this), or putting a dent in my to-read stack. But inevitably, by the time lunches are packed, the crumbs are swept one final time from the counter, and the dogs are let out, it’s too late. I’m too tired. (At this point, I’m thinking an alternate title for my Substack could have been I’m Too Tired. Is it just part of my personality now? I kid. Sort of.)
I could tell this student found this reality a bit sad. He quickly clarified that it made sense—my kids are so little! And he is right. I offered a chipper equivocation—it’s temporary. A season of life! All is good. At that point, I called it on pretending to read Jane Eyre and let the class have free time—again, the spirit day.
So, how do I fix this? Am I in a season of life where this just IS? I think that yes, that is true. What I’m learning, though, is that “good enough” is still pretty damn good, in most scenarios. Case in point:
My kids aren’t upset about eating easy mac and fruit for dinner. It’s okay if we don’t have a home-cooked meal every night.
Our house is tidy, but not perfectly clean. That’s okay.
On the weekends, we sleep right until the kids get up. We have to hit the ground running, but that extra sleep time is so worth it.
I often prioritize daily tasks over making time for larger, more time-consuming ones. Taxes got put off for a while, but they eventually got done.
All of these “good enoughs” make more room in our days. And if “good enough” means that I can go to bed earlier, read some of my book, or spin my creative wheels a bit, then it is well worth it. Choosing to do something for myself, or even better, choosing to do nothing, is just as worthwhile and valuable as grading a stack of fifty essays within one week for my students. It’s hard to make that choice (what with the essays and the laundry and the snack cups staring me down all the time), but it is an ultimately productive choice. Finally doing nothing after weeks and weeks of running laps on the continuous hamster wheel that is early motherhood clears my mind and soothes my soul. It makes all the noble causes and minutiae easier to handle, which is why I need to choose to do nothing more often. As the kind of person inclined to always do the most, I am finding a lot peace in intentionally doing less.
It is, of course, not possible to “have it all.” We all know that. But I do think it is possible to have a little bit of many things. And for right now, I am (mostly) content with that. ♡