Lessons in Learning to Do Less
Maybe it's ADHD, maybe it's Female Hustle Syndrome. In either case, women are running an unsustainable marathon and, as guest Chloe Kaplan will tell you, the body doesn't lie.
Exactly three years ago, I awoke in a panic, realizing I’d missed my 5AM alarm, sprung out of bed, and promptly broke my pinky toe on the wooden bed frame.
It was the end of the 2020-2021 school year - a year that, for many reasons, remains imprinted as one of the most stressful and soul-draining of my existence (given my many years of caregiving, that’s saying something) - and it was a wildly inconvenient moment for such an injury. I had no idea that a body part measuring barely an inch in length could profoundly impact my overall mobility. Not to mention, my mental health.
I hobbled into work that morning, unsure how I would lead 20 third-graders up and down three flights of steps, but quickly discovered the answer: slowly and painfully. Meanwhile, at the behest of my orthopedic doc, I begrudgingly cast aside all my “cute” shoes in favor of the ones with support and stability - two words that belong nowhere near fashion, but have since made me a sworn devotee to sneakers.
The experience of navigating such a silly injury at the end of a year marked by so much stress was humbling. It was the first thing that came to mind when my colleague and friend, Chloe Kaplan, whose words are shared below, texted me to share she was headed to the emergency room with a broken finger.
I’d been with Chloe earlier in the week. She is the founder and CEO of Amore Learning, the educational company at which I work. At any given time, Chloe can be found simultaneously doing ten million things - navigating 42 text chains, sending 18 emails, making phone calls to local businesses, and stocking the office with heavy boxes of LaCroix.
Such is the existence of a small business owner. But, in many ways, such is the existence of the modern woman.
Though much has been written about the phenomenon of women “trying to do it all,” I wonder how many real steps we’ve taken toward accepting less from ourselves. These days I frequently find myself in conversation with women, who like me, live very full lives, wondering aloud if they have ADHD. On a recent walk with my husband, I told him the same thing.
He looked at me blankly and said, “You don’t have ADHD. You just do too many things.”
Perhaps he’s right. I discovered last weekend that I am, indeed, capable of great focus when I make the conscious decision to put down my barrage of mental clutter, hone my world to a smaller, more manageable size, and get super intentional about what I value.
The enormous amount of content we consume on social media delivers mixed messages. Some of the biggest influencers promoting rest, wellness, and doing less post constantly, contributing to a pressure many women feel: to have a successful brand, to cultivate a large number of followers, to have a home and a lifestyle suitable for public documentation, to turn every hobby into a revenue-generating career.
Add on top of that motherhood. Partnership. Mental wellness. Social activism.
Hell, we’ve even turned the sacred act of reading into a competitive sport (although some bookstagrammers have recently announced they’re leaving the party).
It’s not a new hustle, exactly. Women have been hustling for our survival since the dawn of time, but the concerning thing about the present moment is that we (me included) bear some responsibility for the pressures that consume us. We can choose not to participate in the pageantry. We can choose to delete the apps that muddle our insides with envy and self-doubt. We can decide we’re enough, our efforts are enough, and that whatever carrot we’re chasing isn’t the solution to whatever we fear we’re lacking.
It’s unlikely that every ambitious, hardworking woman has ADHD, and far more likely that we’ve subscribed to an unrealistic narrative of what we should be doing with our time (i.e. everything) and how we should look doing it (i.e. flawless).
This is not a condemnation of Instagram (a platform that has led me to some of my dearest and most trusted friends), nor of any individual. But it is a reminder that our participation in the hustle culture is a choice and that if we want to do less and really feel OK about it, we have to stop subscribing and contributing to the narrative that more = better, more = value, more = worth, and decide on our own values instead.
The more we collectively move in that direction, the less pressure we put on each other, our loved ones, and the next generation, who I hope will find worth and contentment not in the amount they produce on a given day, but in their relationships with others and the purposeful work they choose.
It bears reminding: the permission we grant ourselves is inevitably permission for others.
Meet Chloe (and her fashionable middle finger)
Last week at 9pm, while texting to find an urgent sub for one of our Amore classes the next day and simultaneously ushering my son into the quickest shower of all time so as not to disturb the NFL draft he was glued to, I slammed my right middle finger into our glass shower door and immediately concluded it had fallen off. I announced this to my son, who called my husband at his guy’s night and relayed the message that mommy’s finger had fallen off and he needed to come home. My finger had not fallen off. However, it was broken from the weight of the door and also sliced by the glass down to the bone.
Days later, I was on my way to a meeting I was super excited about at my office. The business has been growing, and we are soon announcing some new branches. There is lots to do, and this meeting was focused on growth - how to stay true to our roots, be intentional about our purpose, and put thoughtful and effective practices into place.
On the way there, I got a flat tire. There are no gory details about that, other than the ones that flashed through my head as I resolutely plowed down Massachusetts Avenue with a loudly thumping tire, and constant dashboard notices to “pull over immediately,” but with a complete unwillingness to miss this important brainstorming sesh.
When I finally walked in, Abby looked up at me and said, “Chloe, sit down.” I plopped my seven bags of office supplies and lukewarm melted iced latte on the table. “I have a theory,” Abby said, “and it’s kind of hokey.” Here for it. Abby proceeded to tell me that breaking my finger and all of the complications that had ensued from the pileup was a message. God (the universe, whoever) had broken my middle finger as a giant fuck off gesture. To slow me down. To teach me I was doing too many things at once. To say sometimes I just have to pause and give the middle finger to whatever was least important. The thing about Abby is that she’s pretty much always right, and this was one of the first things in an entire week that made any sense to me.
The next day I went back to the hand specialist who told me I needed a custom splint. Most splints could be open on one side - the top or the bottom. Due to the nature of my injury (don’t worry, I won’t repeat it… but let’s just say it’s a 360 situation), I needed one that wrapped all the way around. “Currently getting a custom splint,” I texted Abby. “Girl, tell them to make that shit custom.” And they sure did. When the OT asked what color velcro I wanted (“Mmm, we have black, white, grey, navy, and oh… here’s a neon pink,”) you better believe I chose that fuck you shade of pink and matched it to my neon pink handbag that night.
So, it may have taken me four and a half hours to type this with my broken finger because my neon pink splint isn’t graceful on laptop keys. But you know what? The other ten things I had to do and chose to give the middle finger to… well, they will still be there for me tomorrow. For now, I’m pausing to share my story, and hope that it resonates with some of you. There are lessons sprinkled throughout our lives, and maybe learning to pause, and find gratitude for my friends and their hokey theories, are mine to learn for now.
This Week’s (Optional) Homework:
It’s been a while since I’ve posted homework, but this feels like a great week to participate in a little mindfulness practice. When we do too much, it sends our sympathetic nervous system (that fight or flight response) into overdrive, making us clumsy and unfocused. Here are some exercises to bring the nervous system back into alignment:
Start the day with meditation. This is the most redundant advice in the world and for good reason. It’s scientifically proven that meditation increases intentionality and even makes us less error-prone. There are benefits for everyone, including those with ADHD.
Adopt a one-thing-at-a-time mindset. This is not easy but it’s something we’ve been trying with our kids. If you’re in a conversation with someone, you’re not also texting. If you’re completing a work project, you’re not also checking email. Check off one task completely before moving on to the next.
Grant yourself permission. Consider this week’s to-do list and cross off one item completely. Not for later, but for never. As in, I am never going to read that library book that’s due next week, so it’s going in the return bin. Can you find something in your life to classify as unessential?