"I was too tense to appreciate the beauty around me, too preoccupied to listen inwardly or enjoy the people I love." -Tara Brach
Hi friends,
Last weekend, three teenagers stood on a small lake beach. They watched me while I willed my muscles to remember how to rig up a little sailboat—a sunfish. I’d done it 1,000 times before, but that was thirty years ago. I was sure going into this that we would spend part of the morning with my companions using YouTube to tell me what I was doing wrong. Thankfully, we avoided that.
These are little boats meant for one, maybe two. We decided to cram all three of my adventure partners onboard. I pushed them out with tips on the wind, and what happens when the boom hits you in the head.
You will figure it out.
Watch the water change and feel the shifts in the wind. Move with and around each other. You’ll learn to manage speed and direction, eventually. Turn into the wind. Sometimes, you’ll get it wrong, but you’ll figure it out. With some patience, you’ll go where you want. Even when you capsize, you can get it going again.
Proud Papa stood there on the shore, watching those little men experience a bit of peace and joy. The connection with the water, the wind, and the requirement that you notice what is happening around you. They seemed to understand the mechanics of sailing but, most importantly, why.
With the boat barely put away, we felt the pangs of hangriness pull on our patience. We headed to a lovely little sandwich-making haven in a circa late 1800s farmhouse. You’ll find kind smiles behind the counter and satisfied customers moving across the creaking floorboards or lined up for the one small WC.
It’s always busy, and as is my productive custom, I’ve figured out the hack that will save us time. They have my credit card on file, and a call 30 minutes before pick up means a bag will be sitting outside with my name on it. Small town easy and personal. Also efficient and productive.
I poke one of the boys to make the call, but it goes to voicemail - “We are too busy to take call-ahead orders,” the kind voice says apologetically. My impatience flares internally. “Now we are going to have to sit there for 30 minutes,” I say to myself. For some reason, I let it go. It’s summer. And I’m working on waiting.
Getting uncomfortable with unproductivity
Here’s what I’ve come to realize about myself. I am uncomfortable with unproductive time. With the self-imposed constraints on my time, I try to find efficiency everywhere. The app, so the green logged cup is waiting. The full calendar with the idea that unproductivity violates some unspoken code floating in and out of my conscious thought. ‘Wasted time’ is unacceptable. Frivolity is a four-letter word. Why would we ever want to wait 30 minutes for our sandwiches? Let me tell you why.
Those three boys sat with me, and we ate hummus made by a small family business across the street. We discovered that the dozen-ish macaroons I splurged on have a secret center - some honey, others jam. We noticed that the glass water bottles, labels removed, would make great vases for end-of-summer flowers. Our phones disappeared as we ‘endurded’ the wait in our wet bathing suits on a hot summer day, just enjoying a moment - together. No reason. No purpose. No efficiency.
Highly Unproductive.
We were just being unproductively us. In truth, we were highly productive. We produced a series of moments that at least 1/4 of us will never forget. I wonder what other moments I’ve missed because of a misguided definition of what it means to be productive. Too busy being efficient to notice the things that matter.
I think the things you will remember with a warm heart at the end of your life are the ones that matter most. The ‘unproductive’ moments where you slow down enough to recognize the beauty and enjoy the people you love.
Consider this week how your definition of productivity might need refinement. The time you view as useless is maybe the most useful. Society may not deem it productive, but what will eighty-year-old you think?
Take care,
Unproductively Productive