There is a part of me that wants to do it all. This part wants to travel, to write, to teach, to perform, to own a business, to mentor, to have a family, to play sports, to do, learn and experience as much as I possibly can. My day as an at-home family caregiver is filled with writing, learning a language, exercising, stretching, meditating, caregiving (of course), reading, cooking, cleaning, trying to plan future travels, listening to podcasts, and anything else I can do to try to be productive. And while at some points I have written it off as just having a passion for life, my desire for “all the things” has, over just a few years, left me spread thin, overwhelmed, and confused about my life path. I find myself thinking self-depricating thoughts if I am not doing something “productive” or coming up with a career path for when my time is done as a caregiver, whenever that time will be.
And yet, at the same time, I crave simplicity. I don’t want to be tied down to all of these things I think I “need” to do. I’m slowly learning that what I really desire at the core of my being is just that – getting down to the core of my being to discover my essence. To dicover what is truly essential in my life. Life isn’t about more more more – it’s about peeling the layers to reveal what is already there. The continuing evolution of the world shows us that there will always be more to do, to consume, to learn, but that doesn’t mean that I have to accomplish the impossible task of it all. That’s where self-improvement goes too far.
Surprisingly, this do-it-all mentality is not uncommon, at least here in the western world.
A quick browse through Facebook and I can come across acquaintances who are working full-time, going to school, taking care of their kids, having a relationship with their partner, and being the PTA president. Comments from posts like this receive praise. It’s not that each of these things aren’t meaningful accomplishments, but doing them all at the same time suggests that what we are really praising is busyness. I can imagine the toll on the individual’s mental, social, physical, and emotional health, if not now, then over time.
Personally, I’ve gone through cycles of simplifying my life through minimizing my possessions. Through it I’ve found much relief and freedom, but it never seemed to be sustainable, so gradually my search for variety and having the perfect thing crept back up on me.
The cycle of decluttering and accumulating is reminiscent of how my life cycles have gone. But what’s going on under the surface? Perhaps the reason why the possessions accumulate over time is because of the accumulating complexity in other areas of my life.
Greg McKeown describes this exact dilemma of a desire for a simple life in a complex world in his book, Essentialism. The premise of the book is to only fill your life with what is essential to you. This eases the decision-making process and clarifies the mind so we can have more quality time for what is most important to us.
While it seems easy, for a multi-passionate person such as myself, I find the challenge to be discerning what I want to focus on, rather than extending my energy in all different directions.
McKeown writes of this discernment as choosing the vital few over the trivial many. This reminds me of the phrase “quality over quanitity.” The idea is that if we reflect on what we truly want, we can select the least amount to focus our energy on, and let go of the rest.
The paradox of choice shows us that, with so many choices of everything, instead of ensuring everyone’s wants are met, the decision making process causes more stress than the actual outcome of choosing something.
From taking on projects at work, to buying clothing or furniture, to outings with family or friends, choosing the vital few over the trivial many can be applied to all areas of life.
I see the stress, fear and anxiety of the paradox of choice as I explore my own journey with intuitive eating. With so many gurus out there saying “eat this not that”, how are we supposed to choose what to eat in a way that will leave us as individuals satisfied, happy, and free of guilt? Intuitive eating has allowed me to tune into the physical sensations of my body and notice what fuels my body best, while also satisfying my soul. It can be easy to let my mind or past conditioning dictate what I choose to eat in terms of type and quanitity of food. Yet it can be difficult to let go of my thoughts and destructive behaviors. Reflecting on what is essential to best nourish myself as an individual has been a key component of my journey to self-compassion and making peace with food.
By discerning the vital few over the trivial many, we are able to make choices that may require trade-offs, but bring us greater clarity in determining what is essential to us. Everyone has different experiences and associations, past history, preferences, and needs. There is no one size fits all approach besides deciding what will best suit you.
After my first trip backpacking I was ready to take on the world, visit as many countries as I possibly could, see all the things. But by my second trip I realized that, while it may be technically possible to dedicate your life to visiting every country in the world, that wasn’t what I truly wanted.
I don’t get the most value from checking the quantity of boxes or counting the number of places I visit. In fact, it actually diminishes my experience. Instead of relishing in each moment, I’m thinking of the next place, or “Where did we do that thing? Was it this city or that one?”
I get the most value from my quality of time through each experience. Needless to say, I prioritize my travels to places I really want to visit, or that I’ve even already been, to go deeper into my time and each culture, rather than spread it out, spread thin.
Though I am curious by nature, I’ve noticed that I get excited by everything, as nonessentialists do, because we don’t know what we truly want. So how do we figure that out?
By having space to play, solitude to think, deep concentration over distraction, opportunity to listen and question.
And the only way to get the time and energy for that “nonproductive” space, is to choose it over busyness and over productivity, to set boundaries.
We need to stop seeing busyness as a sign of competence, success, and power.
We need to stop seeing sleep and relaxation as a luxury, a weakness, or a waste of time.
We need to design our lives to have escapes as essential instead of resorting to the default of wallowing in our busyness, never having time for the most important aspects of our lives.
We need to live in alignment with what we value most.
We need to commit to something rather than trying to do it all.
The fast pace of technology and efficiency of our modern world, coupled with the infinite vortex of social media only leads to shiny object syndrome and impulsive decision making. I lost count of how many times I’ve impulsively bought a cheap, trendy outfit and then returned it to focus on better quality, timeless clothing pieces.
Thanks to essentialism, we can discern what is vital, letting the sun emerge from our otherwise cloudy life, finding the path to freedom.
What I’ve learned the most from essentialism is this:
If it’s not a HELL YES, it’s a no.
I’m Taylor-Leigh, a multi-passionate person working on stripping down the nonessential aspects of life to reveal what life is truly about. I’m a dancer, a performing artist, and a caregiver. Writing is my new-ish way of making sense of things and weaving through obsessive thoughts.
Last photo of me is by KHPhotos. Featured photo courtesy of Unsplash.