“You can do anything you put your mind to.”
We’ve all heard it: the rhetorical idealism that promises us a world chock-full of possibilities. This statement guarantees us the power to accomplish anything. In my childhood, it drove me to construct makeshift wings and attempt to fly from my rooftop. In my adolescence, it drove me to strive for a diploma. Now, that statement continues to drive me toward an eventual career. Yet, somewhere between credits, extra-curriculars, and the intrinsic feeling of being mass motivated, I seem to have lost myself.
In fact, I barely recognize this person, this girl whose eyes are often glazed over from staring at her computer screen for too long. She once spent her time reading for recreation, fostering her artistic talents and doing yoga. Now, she spends the majority of her time either working or feeling guilty for not working. It’s not that she cannot manage her time efficiently; it’s that she has no time of her own to manage.
Yet, she is an American, awash in the societal demands of one of the richest, most developed, and prevalently depressed countries in the world. She is a part of a demanding, fast-paced system that emphasizes production and vilifies recreation. Her work hours will be longer. Her vacation time will be shorter. Her leisure, expression and self-awareness will be compromised in order to stay afloat in this wave of glorified productivity.
Each phase in life brings about some new series of goals along with a reinforced feeling of meaning. We must be competitive. We must appear productive. We must always be striving toward a pre-defined sense of accomplishment. It is no coincidence that awkward silences are so particular to our culture: We need constant stimulation. Our culturally infused ADD is not a natural condition; it is the result of living in a fast-paced society where worth is judged not by our own individual merit, but by our collective contribution to a whirlwind economy.
To keep up with these demands, we bite off more than we can chew, and the consequences reverberate. Our social lives dwindle. Our free time becomes scarce. The opportunity to get a full night’s rest becomes ever more infrequent. We consistently look toward the future for a period of debriefing, but it never fully comes. Instead, we just add more to our plates.
It is no wonder that we are more prone to stress, bad moods, breakouts, irritability, panic attacks, headaches, sickness, all because we have so little time to really nurture ourselves. We have evolved from human beings into human doings, investing our lives rather than living them.
We begin to define ourselves in relation to others’ expectations. Not only must we be productive, but also we must be perceived as being productive. We complain about how stressed and overworked we are, yet there is a narcissistic undertone to our vocalized anguish: We are bragging. We want our work to be acknowledged. Thus, there is little value in sleeping or reflecting, and being alone is mildly taboo.
While I am not advocating laziness, I think that it is time to accept the fact that maybe we really cannot do everything we put our mind to. Rather, perhaps we should allow our minds to stray from these rigid, deterministic ideas in order to wander around from time to time.
Before you invest your effort into school, or a job, or anyone in particular, consider yourself. Think of what some alone time, a chance to truly be who you are without the interfering energy of another, could do for your own spirit, psyche, even sanity. Whether your inner-peace lies in doing yoga, cooking, cross-dressing, whatever, just take some time to express who you are apart from what you do, even if you claim to not have any time to spare.