You’re Actually Doing Quite A Lot

Somewhere along the way, “doing enough” became a moving target.

Rest got rebranded as laziness. Busy became the new badge of honour.

Here’s a wild thought: maybe your current pace isn’t a sign you’re not doing enough. Maybe it’s the only reason you’ve made it this far without crumbling. 

Metaphorically doing 33mph in a 30 zone. 10% more than average. You’re toeing the line. Sure, you’re pushing it, but not slamming your foot through the floor. Enough momentum to go places, not so much you’re forced to stop.

Not every spare minute requires optimisation. Some stuff isn’t in pursuit of a side hustle, doesn’t impress the in-laws at dinner, nor garner bar chart emojis on the Gram. You can do things just for fun. Or because you want to. You’re not letting yourself down.

Guilt sells. It keeps the wheels of do more churning. It feeds the algorithm.

Productivity has mutated from self-betterment into a glossy cult, demanding devotion and sacrifice under the guise of actualisation. 

If you’ve ticked two things off the Big List of Life today (eat well, move, love people, create stuff) then you’re doing more than most.

This isn’t a justification for slacking off. Never that. This is an invitation, a reminder, to zoom out.

If you graft until the sun sets and your to-do list still screams at you from across the room, you’ve reached the purgatory of productivity guilt.

It’s wild that you can keep a roof over your head, train five times a week, pour into relationships, sleep eight hours, drink three litres of water, walk 10,000 steps and read twenty pages daily, yet still feel like you’re behind.

Behind what? The version of you that lives in your mind with no executive dysfunction, human emotions and boundless time? That person’s fictional. A character extracted from filtered posts and self-sabotage.

Listening to What Did You Do Yesterday opened my eyes to this. A great, silly listen. Each episode is a comic answering that one question. (Un)Surprisingly, their lives look just like ours. No barnstorming daisy chain of eureka moments. They faff about in the morning, try to get some work done and attempt to make healthy choices. Small wins. Occasional spirals. 

Irrespective of status, most people are just doing what they can with what they’ve got.

Because performance isn’t about volume; it’s about rhythm. Knowing when to lean in and when to pull back. Adaptation, not perfection.

You’re allowed to play computer games. Or watch trash. Or just straight up do nothing. Sometimes.

Not everything has to contribute to your obituary. Better is a mirage, if built on burnout.

Work uninterrupted when it’s time to. Set a timer, put on a mix or light a candle like Kerouac. Signify the start and the finish. Then stop. You’re allowed to turn off.

If you’re remotely self-aware, reflect on your actions, eat well, move often, or just do things throughout the day with intention, you’re doing enough.

You’re not falling behind. You’re refusing to sprint toward a finish line that doesn’t exist.