We live in a world that seems to rush everything. Attending gatherings with friends, scheduling workout sessions, fitting in coffee dates, getting to and from the grocery store, keeping the house clean, responding to emails, booking flights to visit family and friends…making sure life is “in order” is a full time job.
I have a constant to-do list (or several, rather) waiting for my attention. There’s one in my kitchen, in my room on my bedside table, and always one sitting on my desk in the office—if you’ve worked with me, you’ve probably seen multiples scattered around my workspaces.
My to-do lists seem to be a source of comfort for me. “If I write these things down, I won’t forget. I’ll make sure everything gets done in a super timely fashion…AND I will feel accomplished each time I mark a box ‘checked off.’”
But, what I’ve realized is, though a to-do list can be helpful, we don’t always need a list of things to do. A prescription for everything in life doesn’t necessarily breed joy, success, or satisfaction. I think it’s healthy to place ourselves in environments where to-do lists don’t exist. Places where our innate “to-do’s” take over and our manufactured “to do’s” take a pause.
I don’t always want to rush everything. Yes, I like (and arguably thrive in) environments where I feel productive. Yet sometimes I need to make time for solitude and quiet. This world is so busy and bustling with excitement, opportunity, and good things wrestling for the attention of anyone who will lean into the obligation, but sometimes we just need to rest. We need to make space for ourselves and the people around us in order to fully experience the joys and beauty that the world has to offer.
I’ve noticed great benefit of taking time for meaningful transitions in my life, which have often been accompanied by an adventure. These adventures usually come in the form of hiking, but they don’t have to…what works for me is not everyone’s cup of tea! What I love about going on an adventure in between big life changes is it gives me space to process what I’m experiencing, consider my goals in a broader context, reframe my mindset, and prepare myself with a refreshed mind ready for a new journey.
With backpacking, my to-do lists of “normal life” fall away for the moments I am on the trail. My attention comes to my body in the world immediately around me. Where will I find water for the day? How far do I want to walk? Am I experiencing any pain that I need to draw attention to? Do I want to push myself today and “crush miles,” or slowly enjoy my surroundings?
When I resigned from my role at the Chamber to take on a new position as Special Projects Manager at the Arnall Family Foundation, I made sure to create time for transition. I’ve done this before and it’s been really effective. I initially set out to hike 178 miles of the Ozark Highlands Trail with my friend Taylor Bell, who I met on a thruhike of the Colorado trail. Because of winter weather conditions, we got about 60 miles in and decided to change our plans and hike the 96.4 mile long Lone Star Hiking Trail near Houston.
I want to be clear here: I’m not sharing this post to boast about the privilege I’ve been granted to take time away from typical responsibilities (though I am beyond grateful I’ve been in the position to make time without significant inconvenience to myself or others). I’m sharing these thoughts because experiences like this one has been more than beneficial to me. I think many of us choose not to make time for things that matter because they scare us. Taking even a week off of work can feel debilitating and anxiety-inducing, but it’s okay to break away from the norm.
I promise.
Your mind may fill with a narrative: “What will they do without me? How will my projects get finished? Will they make enough progress while I’m away? Will I let someone down if I take time for myself? Do I really even need this time? I can just push through.”
Well, friend, if you need permission not to “push through” for something, please take this as your personal pass. You’ll thank yourself for it.
Taking time for transition can smooth the ups and downs that come in a variety of life changes: getting married, moving to a new city, having a baby, losing a loved one, etc. But, because I’ve just gone through it, this post has been mostly focused on the experience of making a career change.
A further piece of advice: if you’re joining a new team or organization, know that your start date is negotiable (often more negotiable than you may expect). Also know—when you give yourself the time to transition in a way that’s healthy for you, it will be healthy for the team that you join. You’ll come in with less burn out (I know that’s a term we’re all tired of hearing, but it’s real), you’ll be more open to change and a new routine (because you’ve just successfully executed one), and you’ll demonstrate the importance of well-being to the people you’re getting ready to see every day. In addition to those wonderful things, YOU will be part of shifting the standards of immediacy in our culture, standards that are arguably inaccurately valued.
I’ll begin my role at the Arnall Family Foundation on Wednesday, and I am beyond excited to join a team full of brilliant people who have the determination and drive to make our community a better place.
The past two weeks have been filled with joy, gratitude, and precious time spent creating meaningful memories. I feel prepared to begin my next chapter and am eager to uncover the opportunities I have ahead of me for continued growth.
Wishing you and all who you love the opportunity to make time that you need when you need it. Thanks for reading.