I’m sitting by the water, surrounded by trees, and bugs, and butterflies; loons fishing for breakfast by my dock; a warm and gentle wind cooling off the feeling of the hot sun on my skin; cicadas singing their long yearning song in the distance; and I think to myself “Why do I wait a whole year to do this?”

Granted, I just finished reading The 4-Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss, and it will likely take some time to sew my mind back together after it being blown to bits. But while I wait to transform my life into the dream that Tim talks about, I come back here and milk the deliciousness of what my senses bring to me.

But it only lasts a few moments.

It’s not easy to stay in that feeling of appreciation. It’s not easy to let go of the pressures and responsibilities waiting for me at home and at work when I get back. It’s not easy to let go of the existential jitters that constantly loom in the background, telling me that instead of just sitting here, doing nothing, surely there MUST be something productive I could be doing with my time.

I’ve been here 3 days and I still feel it. 4 more days left… I just might go crazy between now and then.

Do you know how hard it is to do NOTHING for a week straight?

In the weeks and days leading up to this blessed vacation, the hardest part was NOT filling up my time with outings, excursions, and meetings with friends. I’ve had countless times where, when speaking to someone, I caught myself moments before blurting out “I’ll be on vacation next week, maybe I could stop by for a visit” or “I’ve got a whole week at this cottage, it’ll be great, you should come!”

Especially with family members knowing I’m going to be on vacation, judging me for not making time to visit them (how DARE I?), I’ve been feeling like I’ve had to guard this week’s worth of time as if my life depended on it… and perhaps it does.

The difficulty of doing nothing

Working with leaders and high performers of all kinds, I’ve been talking a lot about self-care lately. It makes sense, this being summer vacation time and all. But how many times have you heard someone come back from vacation saying “I need a vacation from my vacation!”

Sure I could write a list of 10 tips you can use to implement self-care into your life at home and at work, and some things you might do, others not so much. But the truth is, self-care is about finding quiet moments to do nothing, extending them as long as possible, and guarding them like your life depends on it.

Am I starting to sound crazy?

Here’s the thing: burnout, is a result of NOT taking care of yourself over a long period of time. Plain and simple. You’ve been going too hard, too fast, for too long, and eventually, you crash.

There are major burnouts and minor burnouts, the difference being your level of self-awareness to catch yourself before you end up in the hospital. Then you’ll have no choice but to take time to stop. But trust me, it’s not as enjoyable.

There are a million ways to introduce self-care into your life. From having a daily morning routine that includes a meditation practice, journaling and exercising; to choosing and keeping healthy eating habits; setting goals and implementing daily, weekly and/or monthly planning; exercising the 80/20 principle on the amount of e-mails and meeting requests you allow into your inbox at work; and making sure you fit in time to be present with your partner and your kids, with an evening out with friends peppered in there somewhere.  

The list goes on and on. Just Google “self-care” and you’ll get thousands of hits. But I would like to argue that planning and guarding some time to STOP, should also be on your list.

Why do we have to wait until retirement to stop and do nothing? 35 years is a long time to wait. And what damage will you have done to your heart, your mind, and your health along the way? What good is it to wait 35 years to truly rest if you don’t have the health to enjoy it when you get there?

Are you really willing to gamble with time and health, seeing how far you can go before something gives out, or someone walks out? I don’t think you are.

In fact, more and more, I’m starting to see men and women of my generation unwilling to kill themselves for their careers, the way they’ve seen their parents and mentors do before them. But one question still seems to remain: HOW?

Is work-life balance real?

HOW do I make this work-life balance thing work? HOW can I be a high performer at work AND live a full, healthy personal life? HOW can I take time to slow down, or even stop, and STILL be present with my loved ones?

Two things:

1. You have to put your own oxygen mask on first; and
2. It’s not about balance. It’s about integration.

There’s no way you will ever be able to balance the amount of time you spend at work, AND being present with your loved ones, AND taking care of your regular responsibilities (cooking, cleaning, groceries, yardwork, etc.), AND taking care of yourself.

True balance is not possible, but if you focus on integration and you start with taking care of yourself before anything else, I’m certain that you can get pretty close.

How self-care works for me

Over time, I’ve realized that my self-care regime is made up of an integration of a variety of things.

First, I like to take one-week per year to just F-off into the woods, by myself, for a complete reset.

That used to mean packing up my tent, my cooler and my dog, and finding a spot in the middle of nowhere, far away from even the sound of the road, and JUST BEING for a few days. These days, I prefer a real bed, some running water and electricity, but I still need as many trees as I can find, and a lake to jump into.

Interestingly, I’ve found that the years when I didn’t do this, I got cranky and my mental health seriously declined.

Then, since I can’t do this as often as I’d like, I make sure I give myself an entire weekend, at least once per quarter, to disconnect from responsibilities, and not care about cleaning the house, paying bills or doing groceries. It’s harder to do if I stay home so I try to get out of town, but that’s not always possible, so I try to spend as little time in the house as I can.

I find a trail to walk down, a coffee shop to hang out in, or a book store to peruse. It doesn’t matter what I do, as long as I have no set agenda or plans, and I allow myself to just do whatever I want, whenever I want, following my inspiration as I go.

It sounds amazing, and it is when I can pull it off, but it’s harder than it looks. There are always a million other things I could be doing. But I force myself to do it anyway, even if I feel guilty, and lazy, and selfish the whole time.

Then, every weekend, whether it’s Saturday or Sunday, I designate one morning to be “the slow, lazy morning”. From waking time (no alarm clocks) to about 11am, sometimes longer, I chill with a coffee and a book, a journal, or I do my weekly reflection and planning.

I started doing this years ago for my daughter’s sake, because I knew that on the weekends she was with her father, he always had something busy planned for her: friends to visit, errands to run, movies to watch, museums to have adventures in. I knew those outings were great fun for her, but I didn’t want my child to grow up not knowing what it’s like to slow down, just be a kid and allow free time to guide her decision-making. You’d be surprised how hard it’s been for her to learn… “Mom, I’m bored! (it’s 9am) What are we going to do next?” “Nothing!” I’d reply, to her dismay.

But how many Saturday mornings did we spend cuddling on the couch together, just watching cartoons? Those are memories that will stay with me forever.

Over time, I realized that I needed those quiet mornings as much as she did. And as she grows older and more independent, I have to be more deliberate about the “not doing anything” part of those weekend mornings. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is not to start cleaning a few dishes that were left in the sink the night before, or picking up toys and shoes that were left strewn all over the place. Even making Sunday morning muffins counts as puttering around and before I know it, 11am rolls around and my coffee is still on the counter, cold, two sips in, and I haven’t sat down yet.

Slowing down is HARD, but I force myself to do it as often as I can. Because if I don’t, every day is filled with rushing to get things done from the moment I get up to the moment I hit the pillow, and I am determined to not kill myself for my career, my business, or my life for that matter.

Life is just too short to do otherwise.

Most of all, I do it because I want my daughter to grow up knowing that she can and she should perform at the highest levels that I know she is capable of, but that it’s also ok to take time to slow down and not do anything in particular; just for a little while.  

Now it’s your turn

What do you do to take care of yourself? What ways do you incorporate quiet moments to rest and recharge in between those periods of high performance? Leave us a comment, or shoot me an e-mail. I’d truly like to know!