leisure time

and letting go of the pressure to make the most of it

Last night, I lay in bed staring blankly at the wall. When Naveed came in and asked me what was wrong, I said I didn’t know what to do with myself the next morning, when I would have the morning off — and most importantly, the kids would have childcare.

The pressure I put on myself to have a few hours that are perfect, just for me! Rejuvenating, relaxing. My list of ideas included going to Berkeley Bowl and Target, buying some egg tarts, visiting the local plant nursery, and going to read or write somewhere. It definitely excluded the things I knew would not bring me joy, like responding to my accountant or cleaning the roof before it rains. And then the subsequent stress when I’m paralyzed by options and trying to make a plan when tired and grumpy.

My own judgement when many of the ideas I came up with aren’t strictly for me, but are activities I enjoy intermixed with things that would benefit the household — buying the egg tarts I know my kids love so much, grocery shopping, etc. Am I taking care of myself? Do I actually enjoy these things, or have I been societally conditioned to as a woman? What does it say about me that I can’t even prioritize just myself for a few hours?

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These days, leisure time is so scarce that I put so much pressure on it to be just right. After winter break, I remember coming back to work, thinking…well, that was ok but I’m not totally restored! One of my coworkers told me privately, I’m glad you shared that, because I’m also not feeling as rested as I had hoped. The unspoken expectation was that 2020 would be over, and we’d turn a new leaf with 2021! When the reality was that nothing changed significantly when December 31st became January 1st.

This must be a common phenomenon, and I imagine a lot of people are hanging on by a thread. I love this letter from your short afternoon walk:

Hey, it’s me: Short Afternoon Walk. As you may have noticed, you’re all turning to me an awful lot these days. Don’t get me wrong, I love what we have together, but I think we need to face the truth: I can never be everything you want me to be.

When this little routine first started, I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. I was an escape. I was an adventure. I was beloved. But somewhere along the way, I became your everything.

For many, our coping mechanisms and strategies for re-charging are not available to us anymore. Travel, social time with friends…for me, it was weekend ultimate frisbee pickup games — social time and exercise and sunshine bundled efficiently into one neat package.

Now, every other weekend, I look forward to the spaciousness of a no-kid weekend — a few days before, I start to imagine long hikes, delicious food, time being present with each other, maybe some spontaneous local adventures. And every time, at some point, I find myself a blob on the sofa, apologizing for being in such a grumpy mood. Naveed points out to me that I’ve spent the last two weeks being on for work and for my kids, so it’s no wonder that when I finally have some space for myself, the emotions I’ve been putting off emerge, eager for some attention.

We tend to plan ahead and make time for fun things, but not so much for the hard things like dealing with the grief of the past year, or talking about our frustrations. We need time and space to deal with the latent emotions that yearn to be recognized, that haven’t had a chance to be processed — now more than ever. I once joked with Naveed that the next time we go for a longer vacation, we need to take a long weekend off a week before to get any fights that need fighting out-of-the-way. Our new expectations for a date night is that it’s not always date night, it’s either date night or fight night. Because sometimes, in that time we’ve set aside to be with each other, there’s conflict that needs resolution first.

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I remember reading awhile back that kindergartners act up a lot after school, because they use up so much of their self-management at school, listening to their teachers, listening to instructions. When they get home, they have no more resources left, so the parents get a short-tempered five year old, completely different from the well-behaved child in the classroom.

At the end of a long day, or at the end of a long week, or at the end of a long year, aren’t we all just kindergarteners with so few resources left?

So today, on International Women’s day, with the morning off, I’ll try to keep reminding myself that it’s not going to unfold according to some intricate plan. I won’t check off everything on my list, and it’s unlikely that I’ll end the morning feeling completely rejuvenated. But I’ll try to make space for whatever emerges in this brief space and time I have to myself.

Hope you all are hanging in there. Be kind to yourselves.