Getting Used to Slowing Down

Every morning after I drop my daughter off at school, my son and I have a new routine of taking a walk around the block. Thanks to (finally) seeing nicer weather, it no longer requires an immense amount of sweat just to get around the neighborhood.

He’s become a little chatterbox in recent months, always pointing out animals or talking about how he wants to go to the house on the corner to see if their cat is outside. It’s become one of my favorite parts of every day. We take our time, and I get to listen to just soak in whatever blabbering comes out of his little mouth in his own, unique toddler language.

In a past life, I would have spent that hour between dropping off my daughter and logging on obsessing over Slack or text messages I’d read when I first woke up. They may have arrived overnight or early that morning, and it was usually some five-alarm fire that wasn’t actually urgent, but someone higher up the chain had decided it was, so it became everybody else’s problem.

I’d then be online earlier than I needed to be, sorting through off-hours messages and dealing with things before I’d even had a cup of coffee. Even away from my computer, I continued thinking about them. And I don’t think I fully realized how much of a toll that daily ritual was taking on me.

My family was getting the leftovers

I’ve worked in environments where the expectation was that you’d be available around the clock, and being unavailable was frowned upon. That hasn’t been true of every corporate job I’ve had, but I didn’t realize how much that kind of expectation kept my nervous system in a perpetual, unhealthy state of "fight or flight."

Additionally, we’ve had an incredibly difficult and complicated year as a family, and I was just mentally at capacity. By evening, I felt beat down. I was more irritable and had a harder time engaging with my kids. I struggled to keep my nose out of my phone, constantly checking Slack and email even when we were together, afraid I was missing another fire.

Looking back, I realize my family was getting the leftovers. I was physically there, but my attention was elsewhere. Whatever energy I had left was what they got. I knew I was exhausted, but I don’t think I understood how much I was missing until I started doing some of those things again.

Getting used to this

After moving on from my last job, I made the conscious decision to — at least for the foreseeable future — work for myself rather than return to corporate life. I’ve realized that I’m just not ready to be at the mercy of an employer again, and I wanted to see whether I could make this work.

Even now, as I’ve started to pick up more steady work, my weeks look so different. And I’m incredibly thankful for that.

I’ve been helping teach my daughter tennis and have started cooking again. We have breakfast together every morning and go to the grocery store together. We play at night. During my son’s nap time, my daughter and I color and do word searches.

I’m enjoying these things more because I can actually pay attention. I’m noticing more about the kids and their days, and I have more energy to join in without being so preoccupied with whatever might be happening at work.

It’s taken a lot of getting used to. I still feel like I’m neglecting something if I haven’t checked my messages frequently. It’s gotten better, but the deceleration has been a little jarring. I can be out on a walk with my son and still have that urge to check in, even though I really don't need to.

I care a lot about the work I’m doing now. I want to grow my business and be good at it. More than that, I want to build something my kids and I can be proud of while also being present for them.

Checking in used to come with a fear of missing something or losing my job. Now, I’m thinking about my clients and what I’m trying to build. I still need to pay attention to how much time I give it, especially when I recognize some of the older habits that are dying hard, but my headspace around it is completely different.

What I got back

Don’t get me wrong, I miss the steady paycheck, and having to be the hunter-gatherer when you’re self-employed can be a challenge. There’s a lot to be said for knowing when you’ll get paid and having taxes figured out for you.

Although uncertainty is still there, the difference now is that it doesn’t occupy as much of my headspace. I can be worried about work and still enjoy breakfast with the kids or spend time on the tennis court with my daughter. I’m finding that I have more to give them.

In the end, it's led me to a refreshing realization: I’m blessed to have been able to move on into something like this while my kids are this young. I can’t come back to this age later and have these conversations or find out what they wanted to show me.

Being able to enjoy this time with them means a lot to me, even while I’m still figuring out how working for myself is going to go. I can’t imagine it any other way, and I feel sorry for those who don’t have the same opportunity.

Hustle and grind are overrated. Being here with them and having that be my legacy leaves me feeling that, despite all the uncertainty, I’m exactly where I need to be.