Work-life balance and other bullshit
What do we do when work-life balance just isn’t logical?
Some things that should be simple, but aren’t:
French toast in a hipster restaurant
Finding lost socks in the laundry
Doing literally anything at the DMV
Finding a way to work less
Recently, I’ve been asking my Gen-Z friends for advice…mostly, on how to work less, do less, and feel less shame and guilt while doing so.
They’re pretty badass when it comes to not giving a fuck, and I want to be more like them, now that I’m staring 40 in her beautiful, wise, terrifying face.
Even my own teenager, when presented with the latest crazy overwork scenario I’m considering to get us out of debt and help them pay for college, went straight for the heart. The advice I’d given them so often just tumbled right out: Mom, why do you keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting something different to happen?
The downside of hustling is real, and we all talk about it - burnout this, quiet quit that, self care whatever.
What we don’t often talk about is how hustling isn’t optional anymore. In an economy that seems designed to screw us over, how many of us can truly afford to work less?
Hell, we’re just now beginning to see our need to slow down. We came out of a pandemic and went right back to the old normal, because most of us had to, so we’re all still working on just issue #1: resisting the conditioning that we must do and produce to have value in the world.
All the while, the more insidious problem is growing: that even when you learn how to hustle less, you’ll still not be able to do it — because there’s no way to not hustle for your existence in the economies most of us were born into.
I think it was Malcolm Gladwell who said - years ago, even before Covid - that we’ve never worked this way before.
Think about that. In all of human history, we’re the first ones to work like this. To require so many hours traded for so many basic needs. To be constantly connected, to have zero lines between work and everything else.
It’s the everything else that gets neglected in that kind of culture, especially when we live on so many financial edges, without the privilege of being able to reduce our working hours.
It’s like playing Twister, except you’re older now and your hips hurt and you get a headache when you hang upside down trying to conform to what they want you to do. We’re no longer very good at playing this game.
My arms can no longer stretch to hold all the crises that keep popping up. There’s no way I can contort one more time around a medical emergency or a flat tire or a kid with cavities or the 180% increase in grocery prices or two layoffs in one year.
There is, quite literally, nothing left of me to stretch. The credit cards are maxed out, and so am I.
Even my GenZ friends are starting to get that cynical look on their faces. Everyone I know is so tired of wishing it were different that we can’t see a way it can be different…and that’s not a flaw in our personal development, that’s just the economic reality we live in.
When saying no means giving up Very Important Things, like your kids’ dental health or your ovarian cyst removal or your mortgage, you can’t say no.
When doing less means turning your back on your kid’s proud, beaming grin above the college acceptance letter, because you can’t face telling them there’s no way in hell you can send them there, there’s no good way to walk away.
When finding balance means giving up on the basics, like healthy food, doctor visits, and teeth, there’s just no logical argument not to hustle.
When there is nothing left to cut, you have no choice but to keep burning out, over and over. At least it’s not just you. I literally don’t know anyone who makes enough money to exist without credit.
Balance is hard to find when there’s nothing left to give up and one side of your life, the one governed by the basic needs of those you love, is always heavier than the other.
When you live on the edge, the only thing that matters is balance. It doesn’t matter what kind it is, as long as you don't fall.
So what, then, do we do?
What do we do when we hit this point of knowing, deep in our souls, that this shit is killing us? That if we don’t change something, we’re gonna wake up at sixty mostly dead already?
How do we keep chasing work-life balance when we know that to do anything differently will mean giving up something crucial?
How do you find balance when there’s nothing left to give up?
Most of what I’ve come up with — over the last decade of try, fail, try again — it’s more about facing things the way they are than finding ways to work around it.
In practice that looks like repeating until it sticks:
Yes, I will probably always be broke, born at the wrong time to the wrong people in the wrong place.
Yes, I will probably always have credit card debt, because I started out with nothing and this country has no safety nets.
Yes, I will probably always have to work.
No, I will never retire, much less retire early.
Depressing? Yeah, for sure. It sucks! It’s a system that’ll never let you win and never let you out!
But it’s not any less depressing than doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result.
Once I figured out how to face all that, there is this weird sense of liberation left: Once it’s faced, it can be let go.
I don’t have to pay off all the debt, because there will just be more.
I can reexamine the things I want to see if they’re actually what I need, or if they just insert more working time between me and the things I enjoy.
I don’t have to scrimp quite so much, because in the long run, what difference will $100 a month make, if I’m using it to buy decent groceries with inflation instead of dropping it in the dumpster fire that is personal finance in the 21st century?
I don’t have to do an extra round of edits for that client, because I know I’m not being paid half what their male consultants are, and that extra few hours means I get to move my body instead of sitting in this chair all day.
The dishes do not have to get done my way by me.
I can say no to growth, I can say no to perfection, I can continually reduce my standard for what’s good enough.
Maybe all that’s left is to go back to the basics.
Let go of planning anything big.
Be okay with living at the bottom on the minimums. Give up what could be or might be for what is, right now.
I’m working to try to stop thinking of what I’m giving up – those dreams of being debt-free, financially secure, able to do things like travel or remodel – and start thinking of all the tiny moments I can recapture on a daily basis.
All the time I can gain back by doing as little as I can. All the moments I won’t miss in a day with my kids or my partner or myself. All the ideas I might have if my brain isn’t so full with the anxiety of never having enough.
Even in our own quiet, tired, unseen ways, we can let go a little, find some joy where it is, and, at the very least, stop doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
In the words of Stephen King, which sit as a reminder on my record player, maybe all we can do is be true, be brave, and stand. All the rest is darkness.
⭐ Try something new, it might surprise you
One small new thing, implemented well
My small new thing this month was to create some artificial separation between my life and my work. I work from home (and have for 15+ years), so this is easier said than done.
I bought a $5 notebook to keep my writing and creative projects in, so I don’t flip past pages of work notes that distract me from my writing time. I put blockers on the work apps I use so I can’t open them until 8 am, hoping it will help me not fall for the false promise of productivity I get when I open them during the time I set aside for personal projects.
I’m listening to different music for work than for life. I’m building in a buffer —some days it’s only 15 minutes — for the in-between, where I get to rest my brain, close my eyes, listen to my body.
I’m even exploring using different task apps for life & creativity and everything else. (I’m a solopreneur, so this is harder than it sounds - no corporate accounts to different clients, no separate slacks or asana tables. It’s all on me.)
The idea here is to get very intentional separation between what I do when I’m working and what I do when my time is my own. In an ideal world we’d have separate offices, or separate desks, or, hell, no connectivity to work after hours, but for now, these small changes seem to help.
If you’ve tried this — or, mad props, done it successfully — I’d love to hear other tips for this kind of artificial delineation!
💖 Words to try living by
A downloadable and shareable reminder, every issue
That’s it for this week - thanks for being here <3
Emily
Just to say that I love all of this in my inbox.