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The Morning Walk That Got Me Thinking
On my days off, I walk to 7-Eleven early in the morning for coffee and groceries. Even if I’ve only slept three hours, I look forward to it—the fresh air, the privacy of the dark or early morning calm, that feeling of starting my day with something simple and good before settling in to write at the computer.
I got back home this morning and caught myself doing something interesting: already calculating how much time I had before I “should” start being productive. Like even this walk—something I genuinely value—needed to be justified as time well spent rather than time wasted.
Made me wonder: when did we all start measuring our worth by how packed our schedules are?
Not complaining, just noticing. It’s a pattern I see in myself sometimes, in my students, in how people talk about their weekends. Thought it might be worth exploring.
Have you noticed this too—treating being busy like some kind of achievement?
How We Talk About Time
There’s this thing people do when they talk about their weekends: “Did you do anything fun?” Always about doing, achieving, having something to show for the time.
I see it with my students who study until they can barely think, convinced that rest means they’re not trying hard enough. One student mentioned feeling guilty about taking a Sunday afternoon nap. Not because she had urgent work—just because resting felt like she was letting herself down somehow.
I respect people with goals and ambitions who are working hard toward something that matters to them. That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s more about this feeling that if you’re not constantly busy, you’re somehow not measuring up.
Even for myself—on days when I’m writing at the computer, genuinely enjoying it, part of my brain starts questioning: should I be doing something that earns money instead? Something I could mention to people when they ask what I’ve been up to?
Where does that voice come from?
Do you ever catch yourself feeling like you should be doing more, even when you’re doing enough?
The Interesting Contradiction
Here’s what I find curious: those quiet morning walks mean more to me than a lot of the “productive” things I do. They’re when I feel most like myself—not performing any particular role, just existing.
But I still treat them like they’re optional. Like they’re something I fit in around the “real” work rather than something worth protecting.
It’s not just me. I’ve noticed my retired neighbors have something different—this ease about them. They’re not rushing anywhere. They tend gardens, read books, have actual conversations. They’re not performing for anyone.
Makes you think about what we’re all running toward. Or maybe what we’re running from.
When do you actually feel most like yourself—busy or still?
What Happens When We’re Always On
I’ve been paying attention to how being constantly busy affects things. Not in a dramatic way, just noticing patterns.
When I’m balanced—like after a morning of farming and then some time to write—everything feels easier. Even my evening gaming sessions are more relaxed, more enjoyable. But when I’m already mentally tired from too much going on, the same activities that usually help me unwind can actually make me feel more stressed.
It’s like our usual ways of relaxing don’t work as well when we’re already worn out. Gaming becomes frustrating instead of fun. Scrolling social media makes us feel worse instead of better. Watching TV leaves us more agitated instead of calmer.
Not earth-shattering stuff, just things worth paying attention to.
Have your usual stress-relief activities ever backfired because you were already too tired?
The Things That Actually Help
What I’ve noticed works for keeping balanced (at least for me):
Having something physical to do that serves a purpose. The farming isn’t just exercise—it’s productive, has visible results, uses different muscle groups. Keeps me grounded.
Protecting transitions between activities. That slow walk to 7-Eleven after work, before settling in at the computer. Not rushing from one thing straight into the next.
Time alone that accomplishes something. Not just isolation, but solitude with a point to it. I dig into this more in What’s Your Quality Time These Days?—those moments when you’re doing something that genuinely restores you rather than just filling time.
Knowing I have unscheduled time coming. Hard to relax into an evening if you’re already worried about tomorrow’s schedule.
These are personal—what works for someone else might be completely different. The point is just noticing what actually recharges you versus what you think should recharge you. I wrote more about this in What Does Your Ideal Reset Day Look Like?, but it comes down to paying attention to what actually works for you versus hoping balance happens by accident.
What actually helps you feel centered when life gets hectic?
The Guilt Thing
This might be the weirdest part: feeling guilty for resting when you’ve already done enough for the day.
Not everyone experiences this. Some people are great at switching off when they’re done. But I’ve noticed it in myself and others—this sense that if you’re not constantly doing something, you’re somehow being lazy.
Even though intellectually we know rest is necessary. Even though we’d tell anyone else they deserve time to recharge. But when it comes to ourselves, we change the rules. I get into this in The Guilt of Saying No—that unnecessary guilt we carry about protecting our own needs.
Worth questioning where that comes from. Worth protecting the simple things that keep us sane, even if they don’t look impressive to anyone else.
Do you ever feel guilty for resting, even when you’ve done what needed doing?
What I’m Curious About
This isn’t about judging anyone’s choices. Some people genuinely thrive on packed schedules. Some seasons of life demand more than others. Nothing wrong with working hard toward something that matters to you.
I’ve been noticing a pattern where we treat being busy like an achievement and rest like something to apologize for.
Have you noticed it too? In yourself, in people around you, in how we all talk about time?
And if you have noticed it, what helps you keep things balanced? What reminds you to protect the simple things that actually restore you rather than just filling every minute with something productive?
Not looking for the “right” answer—just genuinely curious what people have observed about their own relationship with being busy versus being still.
What’s your take on this? Have you noticed people (maybe including yourself) treating constant busyness like an achievement? What helps you stay balanced when there’s always more you could be doing? I’m interested in what others have observed about this.
Share your thoughts below. I respond to every comment, and your experience often helps others more than mine does.
