In Argument Against Productivity

“You’re Killing Your Potential: Here’s How to Be More Productive in the New Year”

“Reasons Why You’re Not Getting More Done and How to Change”

“10 Products You Need To be More Productive in 2023”

January is a bizarre time to be on the internet. While the 11 other months of the year are still riddled with all the reasons you suck, like how you wake up at 9 am and sometimes lay in bed on Instagram for a bit instead of waking up at 5 am to take the world’s coldest most terrible shower, January has the leverage of New Year’s resolutions to really stake its productive claim in every corner of the internet. Apple News alerts (that I’m convinced don’t actually ever turn off no matter how many times I toggle the notifications) are Productivity Hack aplenty in January. Hell, I get three Medium emails a day for some reason, and thus far they’ve all seemed to prove my point that January is the holy month for making you feel like shit because you haven’t optimized your refrigerator organization and you don’t read enough nonfiction.

I’m not against being productive as a concept, believe it or not, I also enjoy getting things done efficiently and developing positive habits, but I find the spirit of the New Year New You thing rather clumsy sometimes. Last January was the first time I deviated from the life plan I had laid out for myself when I was eleven. Picture a tiny little Lila, (except I was already taller than many of my teachers but that’s beside the point,) having just won a mock trial as the prosecuting attorney of one Christopher Columbus on the grounds of treason. I was going to be a lawyer. 12 years later I was in my junior year of college, a year behind on my graduation timeline because perhaps two majors two minors two jobs no sleep no adequate nutrition and approximately 3 years of unwavering cortisol finally did me in. I spent much of the prior year in and out of urgent care for infections and flues with a special mention to a triple whammy of Strep, mono (that turned into another infection), and covid, and it was clear that if I wasn’t going to get a handle on my lifestyle, my body would. My parents urged me to drop out, or at the very least take time off which is not something you typically expect your parents to say, so I listened. I was burnt out beyond belief between being sick and constantly fighting for accommodations that I rarely received and managed to never meet my needs, so I decided to drop out at the end of the spring semester. I grew up with a passion for theatrics. I grew up in dance and theatre, but my heart was always truly committed to writing comedy. At this point, I had had decent success on social media but had never considered taking comedy as a serious path until, again, my parents suggested it. “Everyone kind of all assumed you’d figure it out at some point, and we’d let you get there on your time, but I’m not taking any chances. You’re a tiger in a bear suit.” Were the exact words my mother said to me when she both told me to consider dropping out, and to encourage me to pursue comedy rather than law. There was no doubt I would have done well in the legal realm, who knows, maybe I’ll go back someday, but the school environment was killing me and after just a few short weeks at the law firm I was working at I came to realize, I don’t like lawyers all too much. So it’s January 2022, I’m going to drop out in May, and for the first time in my life, I’m not sticking to the plan. I have no idea what happens next. I barely made it through that semester, my brain was so checked out of school, and those “you need a perfect GPA to get into law school, literally everything matters,” thoughts contributing to my ceaseless cortisol levels, for the first time in years, were quieting. As they silenced, it gave me just enough space in my brain to think. The only thought in my head was Oh. My. God. I. Am. So. Tired. May comes around, I quit my law firm job, my lease is up, school is over, and now I move home to begin life in the unknown. I had a job at the dance studio I worked at to keep me busy some days, but looking back, even though I spent so much time writing, recording, posting, and working on my comedy grind, I feel like I was just floating through the world. I had spent so much of the last several years in constant fight or flight doing 2,000 things a day, and now? I was still tired. I am pretty confident I didn’t have a coherent thought until September. Maybe later. I knew I wanted to focus on my writing. I didn’t have the brain power to push full steam ahead, even if I had any idea what direction to go in, so I just did what I could. I wrote. I read. I worked out. I ran. I love dogs, so I dog-sat a lot. I developed my creative toolbox because I knew there would come a time when I would be ready to use it. I think about here is when I was able to realize how much recovery I really needed from the last few years. I didn’t process the physical toll it all had taken, I was still residually dealing with the second round of Covid I got that previous winter, along with the four entire years I went without a proper night’s sleep. By the way, if you or anyone else is convinced that they are “just one of those people that don’t need that much sleep,” they’re lying. Either to you or themselves, but they are so tired, trust me. I carried out to the end of this last year pretty much like the summer. I worked here and there for the dance studio, but for the most part, I was writing. I didn’t really socialize much after graduating, I think a lot of recovering involved my desire for solitude. I indulged in quiet after years of being desperate for silence. No matter where you are, on campus or off, something about college is loud all the time. When I reflect on this last year, it is simultaneously my most and least productive year to date. On paper, I have never done less. I slept a lot. I spent my waking hours alone, working on my own little projects. If me a year ago saw 2022 on paper, she’d be disappointed, that there isn’t that much to show for it, but she’s quite literally barely cognizant she hasn’t slept in eight days don’t listen to her. I look back and I see the most important work I have ever done. I spent an entire year recovering. I was not “productive” last year. I didn’t wake up at 5 am to go to the gym before going to work before going to class. I didn’t meal prep and drink protein smoothies during my transitions from one thing to another. I didn’t network. I didn’t further my career. My room wasn’t clean one time the entire year. I was not “productive”. I was recovering. I usually hate January. I hated everything about New Year's, I always felt so behind, how the hell was I supposed to start a new year, start fresh when I was buried under all that I had yet to finish in the year before? It wasn’t enough time, I didn’t have enough time, I wasn’t ready for a new year, I needed more time. I would go to bed early on New Year's, I would usually also cry. It’s January 2023, and this New Year's, I didn’t cry. I didn’t go to bed early. I watched a movie with a person I got the opportunity to fall in love with this New year’s, an opportunity that I am certain would not have been given to me if I was running at that lightning speed pace all those years before, too scared to slow down. I woke up the next morning and I didn’t feel unprepared for a new year. I wasn’t behind. I had had enough time. I felt ready to move forward for the first time in so long. I know that New Year's in reality is just a day like any other day, but I have always felt deeply at the mercy of time, tethered to its will. I woke up on New Year's Day feeling unbound. It felt like that first clear breath you take after a months-long stuffy nose. It felt like the rain lifted just in time for you to get out of your car to head into the store. This was the moment I realized I could think again. Welcome to your developed Pre-frontal Coretex. I truly have no memories prior in which I didn’t feel like I was constantly losing a race with time. I wasn’t even racing anymore. I felt still. I had never felt stillness before. As I enter 2023, I feel ready to be productive, to work harder, to learn more, to love more, to listen to myself more. I see these headlines telling me all the ways to be more productive, and maybe I’ll read some of them, maybe they’ll help, but I can confidently say that for me, the greatest “Life Hack to a More Productive You This Year,” is rest. So much rest. And then even more. I know to be able to slow down and reground and recover the way I did is a huge luxury, and that’s why I never did it sooner. Not when I was sick, not when I was burnt out, not when my heart was broken, not when I was injured, because who has the time to slow down when you’re already running so far behind? In the words of my mother, “if you don’t. Your body will.” I pushed through every possible warning sign my body gave me to take care of it and was gifted that awesome combo platter of illnesses at once that nearly killed me, then when I finally recovered and proceeded business as usual as if my body wasn’t already loud enough, I got covid a second time, and I am still to this day surprised I am alive after that. I hear you body. I’m listening. No need to do that again, I promise. If I had made healthier choices, even just taking on a little less, sleeping a little more, working to lower my stress levels, I probably wouldn’t have needed a year long recovery just to be able to form a single coherent thought. Being productive is great. Optimizing your effort is cool. None of it matters if your body gives out on you. Those super fun 5 am showers don’t matter if you are so chronically fatigued you can’t think. That vile greens powder you choke down in the morning doesn’t matter if you aren’t adequately fueling your body. Your morning routine doesn’t matter. Your gym regimen doesn’t matter. Your mindfulness journaling doesn’t matter if you aren’t listening to your body. If you need to slow down. Slow down. If you don’t your body will find a way. That’s its job. If your 2023 resolution is to be more productive, that’s great. If you need a year to recover, that’s just as important. If you ask me, it’s the most productive course of action you can take.