Using our Time Well: Slow Living, Chronic Illness and Productivity
Even if chronic illness is not part of the picture for you, I think you’ll find some useful reflections in this post: if there is one thing that long-term illness teaches us, it’s how to discern what is most important, where to spend our energy and make the best use of the time we do have. With chronic illness, there is always less usable time and less available energy, so we quickly become experts in prioritisation, focus and flexibility in the face of uncertainty.
I’ve been invited to share a bit more about my experience of living with long term illness and the severe limitations that brings, and although I tend to recoil from that, I see more and more the value of normalising this difficult circumstance, as well as reminding the world that illness doesn’t need to look or behave in specific ways—especially when the illness is invisible. Get yourself a cup of something, this one deserves some time. Hope you enjoy it!
“Productivity” mentioned alongside “slow living” and “chronic illness” might sound like a jarring combination. Today I want to reflect on how I have discovered slow living as my only solution for productivity while living with chronic illness.
Slow Living and Productivity
Slow living as I now live it was not a choice, it was an emergency. At my worst, I was lying on the floor eating off a plate because I could not sit up or lift a spoon. That’s about as slow as it gets. If I had learned slow living before reaching that critical stage, my health might have been spared, but I had to learn the hard way. I want to share about it in the hope it might help others before they reach the same kind of extreme, in a world where "burning out" has come to be what we expect of ourselves.
Many years later, I have learned to manage my illness well enough that this doesn’t need to routinely happen. I still get very bad days, but on the whole I am able to focus on being steadily productive in a way that works for me. I make it happen by being fiercely protective of my non-negotiable needs and my energy, time and creativity. Intelligent husbandry of those riches allows me to honour a slow living pace while achieving a lot. It does take frequent reshuffling and adapting of tasks and commitments to make it work with my limited capabilities and random bad days.
Self-Care is Productive
“Charge yourself as often as you charge your phone.” I saw this online recently (I don’t know who said it, but if you do, please let me know). Many of us take better care of our phones, cars and computers than of our minds and bodies. While a machine can be repaired or replaced, you and I are irreplaceable models deserving the best of care and kindness. Self-care is productive because it allows us to replenish our best qualities, making sure they are readily available. To opt for slow living is to make sure that I care for myself and choose responsive, respectful, kindness-oriented productivity.
Asking for Help is Productive
Asking for help is such a difficult thing for many of us, but actually most people are really happy to be of service. When I became so ill that I had to completely change my lifestyle, I realised most people were staying away because they did not know how to help me. That made them feel really uncomfortable, not knowing how to make things better, and also knowing that with chronic illness you can’t just sleep it off or wait for it to pass, like you would with the flu. It’s here to stay, and many people are not able to accept that.
This radically narrowed my support system at a time when I needed it most. I have learned from that, and never hesitate now to ask for help when I need it, from people who are willing to give it. I make sure I have a support system in place for all my needs, and that is a superb way to help me stay productive, because my energy is kept for those things that fulfill me instead of the headache of figuring out endless logistics and tasks that are beyond me.
Boundaries are Productive
Establishing boundaries has been a steep learning curve. I am still learning how to give myself permission, how to be clear, how to respect myself fully. We can find our boundaries by reflecting on a few topics: what we can and cannot do, what we can and cannot give, what we can and cannot tolerate, etc. In my experience it’s been very important to clarify that so that I could focus on what works. This is what drives and informs my choices, in alignment with what I hold dear and wish to contribute. It is the space of clarity where I know I am functioning at my—relative—best.
Productivity on Bad Days
If you catch me on a bad day, it really doesn't look like I am functioning at my best! But I respect my limited capacities, and however little I can achieve that day, that is my best. It might be that my best for that day is to brush my hair. Knowing that, respecting that, is ironically what makes me productive: if I allow myself to rest as needed, if my only achievement is that I have brushed my hair, it means that I honour what I need—complete rest. That in turn allows me to recharge enough to be able to get back to what I love to do the next day/week/month. This is just how it is. Chronic illness has been my most severe and efficient teacher; it has shown me what I want to prioritise and how to make it happen—regardless of what the body does and completely respectfully of what the body does.
A Shift in Perspective
It is very common for people who suffer from chronic illness to feel that they have to catch up on everything when they get “a better day.” Those elusive better days start with good intentions, the joy of feeling a bit more alive, so much to do, a fresh enthusiasm and hope for life, and before we know it we have exhausted the meagre resources of energy we had managed to save by penny-pinching here and there. These are disheartening episodes. We can get so disappointed and frustrated with ourselves, at a time when we really should be most kind and patient with ourselves.
Here is a little tip to help us gain perspective. On those days when the overachiever is particularly vocal and my brain not terribly sharp because of nagging pain, I love making a list of what I have actually done that day. The list might look like this:
- wrote a draft for next blog post
- took photos
- made bunch of flowers
- started 3 paintings
- emailed 2 people
- found birthday gifts for 2 friends
- had a bath (yes, always include self-care in your list of achievements!)
Making a list of what I have actually done when I feel rubbish and still expect I should achieve more is a sane way to give myself the credit and time off I deserve. I feel that like everything else in life, I choose how I relate to and focus on this specific trait.
Giving Ourselves a Break
I always, always want to do more. That’s how my brain is wired, regardless of what my body feels. I am passionate about many things, I am extremely thorough and focused, I have the time of my life every time I am creating stuff. If someone came along and told me I had the option to never sleep again for the rest of my life, I would say yes immediately. As much as I need sleep, and lots of it, I don’t like having to stop everything and go to bed, and the fact that I have to do that so much more often than your average person is very ironic.
But obviously I function better if I take care of myself and put myself to bed on time. I create rituals to make self-care easier so that I don’t have to have an inner tantrum every time it is bath time, nap time, bed time etc. I will write a special post on self-care rituals in the near future because they have really helped me with that resistance which I know many experience.
Honouring our Potential
Being a stumped overachiever has the great potential to get things done and find systems to make any situation work. I am so proud of that trait in me, and so humbled by it, because it has led me into very unexpected developments, has encouraged me to find my best in every day and to embrace a simple and rich life with a wonderful focus on what I am good at. If I was still running up and down mountains like I used to, if I was still spending hours each day walking in the woods, it would sure be lovely, but I would probably not have developed my artistic potential as I have in the last decade of severe limitation and enforced confinement. I honour that path which has helped me to find and express my potential.
The Silver Lining
As I got used to the very natural frustration and grief of being stuck at home in serious pain and discomfort, all my dreams stopped short, I shifted my focus and created new dreams, adapted to my new life. I discovered that my deep love of nature and my fascination with patterns, colours and textures could sustain my mental health and give me an outlet, a purpose and a focus every day. I realised that all my creations support slow living, quality of life, self-care and the honouring of nature. This is the value and motivation behind every item I make. Everything I create has the potential to enhance quality of life and reconnect us to ourselves and to nature in a very soothing and respectful way.
In a nutshell, slow living is what has allowed me to regain and preserve my dignity within the frustrating challenges of chronic illness. It has come to be a lifeline and a beautiful lived philosophy.
I will leave you with a quote from Confucius, who knew a thing or two:
“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”
Simple ways to be mindful and at ease
How to connect to nature when you can’t go out
Supporting ourselves through difficult days
Questions to ask ourselves for our mental health
How to feel safer in times of uncertainty
How to relieve stress and anxiety
