Welcome to Should-Free Saturdays

Five or six winters ago, I was having my usual mid-life identity crisis and trying to solve it by hiding under blankets. Turns out, this is not the best strategy. Turns OUT, avoiding hard things often makes them harder later. Ugh.

I told my therapist that I had done nothing all weekend and I felt like crap afterwards. I was in Austin, where it was warm-ish and sunny, and I had no excuse. I should have done some writing or drawing. I should have taken Izzy for a good, long walk. I should have done some embroidery, at least! But no, I just wallowed in bed and on the couch, watching bad television and eating junk food. I felt like garbage.

My therapist asked me why doing nothing for a couple days was so terrible. This short-circuited my brain, having been raised in a family, and culture, that valued doing something above all else. Even a hobby, for cryin’ out loud! Do a hobby! Doing nothing was simply not an option. It was not, and never would be, on the menu. Then she asked me what would happen if I purposely did nothing. If I set aside a period of time that I had available or that I intentionally created-- an hour, a day, whatever-- and just said, “Nothing needs to be done right now.” And then simply observed what came up for me, but didn’t act on it. I looked at her like she was a brand new species of talking mammal that I’d never encountered before. But I told her I’d give it a shot. 

A few weeks later, I had the opportunity to test this out. I had a few hours on a Saturday that were wide open¹, and I decided to have this moment of intention and say out loud, “Nothing needs to be done until 4pm today.” I stared uncomfortably around my house for a while, looking at all the things that I should be doing. I struggled with the not-doing of those “should” items and twitched. I then wondered if “doing things” included watching TV or reading a book. Was I not supposed to do those either? I needed rules, dammit! I needed to know the exact parameters of this exercise so that I could execute it perfectly! If I were to have gone on some sort of meditation or yoga retreat, I thought, I’d know how to do that! This was completely foreign to me. And so, so uncomfortable. Not-doing meant I wasn’t producing. I wasn’t helping out. I wasn’t adulting. I felt immediately ashamed by the not-doing. 

NEVERTHELESS, I PERSISTED. I ended up watching some terrible true-crime shows on TV (and by “terrible,” I mean “utterly engrossing even if the writing on these shows is often grossly amateur and irresponsible”), and napping. When the allotted time was up, it was time for me to get ready to meet people that evening, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how the day had gone. By the time I got to therapy the following week, things had settled a bit and my therapist asked me how I felt doing nothing. I realized: I felt good. It felt good to rest. 

So, ever since then, whenever possible, I try to have a Should-Free Saturday. Even if it’s only a small portion of that Saturday, I try to find a wee tiny space where I actively choose what I, and I alone, want. Outside of the emontional rest that comes with that piece of should-free time, I’m finding that I’m a lot less resentful of the times where I do have obligations that I don’t feel like taking care of, but do it anyways. And living slightly less resentfully? Hell yes.

If you really want to dig into a justice-oriented framework of why resting and liberating yourself from obligation is an act of political refutation, I can’t recommend Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey enough. I read it when it came out last fall, after following her work on Instagram for a long time, and it has utterly changed the course of my wellbeing.

See you on the flip side of grind culture with my new tattoo. ❤️

1. Huge point of privilege I want to be clear about here: I live on my own and have only dogs to care for, so these windows of time appear for me far more easily than someone who is working an intense schedule, has other humans that they care for or otherwise has more structural responsibilities than I do.