“The issue is not that productivity is bad. Most of us need the satisfaction of doing useful work. The problem comes when productivity becomes the only way we know how to measure whether a day has mattered.” — Dr. Robert Waldinger
This quote reminded me of my experience with what I call “productivity anxiety”—a sense that my fundamental orientation and way of operating in life is to get things done efficiently.
Oliver Burkeman explains it well when he refers to “productivity debt.”
Many people (by which I mean me) seem to feel as if they start off each morning in a kind of “productivity debt,” which they must struggle to pay off through the day, in hopes of reaching a zero balance by the time evening comes. Few things feel more basic to my experience of adulthood than this vague sense that I’m falling behind and need to claw my way back up to some minimum standard of output. It’s as if I need to justify my existence by staying “on top of things” in order to stave off some ill-defined catastrophe that might otherwise come crashing down upon my head.
And make no mistake: paying off your imaginary productivity debt completely—in other words, working so hard and so efficiently that you no longer feel like you’re falling behind—is literally impossible, not just grueling and unpleasant. In the modern world of work, there’s no limit to the number of emails you might receive, the demands your boss might make, the ambitions you might have for your career, etcetera—so there’s no reason to believe you’ll ever get to the end of them.
So I’d encourage you to practice what Swami Kripalu refers to as the highest spiritual practice: self-observation without judgment.
To what extent are you optimizing your life equation for efficient task completion versus something else? To what extent do you feel a subtle (or not-so-subtle), gnawing, anxious tug imbued with guilt to be more productive? To what extent do you feel psychologically at rest only when you’ve paid off your so-called productivity debt?
If you feel this rings true, here is a musing on reworking this perspective…
I remember standing at the overlook on my morning walk around sunrise last summer.
I heard what sounded like splashing. I saw two deer—a mother and child—running around. At first, I thought something had scared them off. But they kept zig-zagging back and forth across the edge of the big puddle in which they had been splashing.
Then they started to run out in a circle and come pouncing into the puddle, turning in circles as they kicked up water. It became clear that they were playing—they were dancing their dance, stomping the water-covered floor just like kids jumping in puddles.
And that is a moment frozen in my mind. Can I be that way? Can I live that way? Deer are fighting for their lives every day. I have no such narrow margin to worry about. No matter what happens (with a few apocalyptic exceptions), I will be fed, sheltered, and, frankly, rich by the world’s standards.
So why can’t I play like these deer?
I’m reminded of two other Zen teachings.
One day, the monk who was taking care of the temple said to Yakusan, “You haven’t given a lecture for a long time, and the monks want to hear you. Please give us a lecture today.”
So Yakusan had a monk hit the bell to call everyone to the lecture hall. Then Yakusan entered and took the teacher’s seat. He sat for a while without saying anything, and then he left and went back to his room.
In Zen fashion, I’ll leave that story for you to ponder rather than attempt an explanation.
In a related passage, we hear a term called “the life of yusan gansui,” which means the life of strolling about mountains and waters. That feels like a brief yet powerful phrase — strolling through life.
This doesn’t mean no activity or refusing to do what you need or want to do. But what if you were to honor your calendar and to-do list in a way that felt like strolling through the mountains and wandering by the streams? What if you were to go through life more like these deer? And what if you measured the quality of your days less by productivity debt and more by having a good day?
(And if you figure out those “what-if” questions, please let me know, because I do not have the answer yet!)
Your happiness nerd,
Jackson
