Summary

The author discusses their journey from feeling guilty about not being productive during lockdown to embracing the opportunity for self-care and personal growth.

Abstract

The author, traditionally driven by productivity and the pursuit of tangible life achievements, finds themselves in an unexpected situation due to the pandemic lockdown in Australia. Initially anxious and resistant to the idea of not working, they gradually come to terms with a slower pace of life. The lockdown forces the author to confront their mental health and redefine productivity, now seeing value in activities that contribute to personal well-being and happiness rather than financial gain. They reflect on the importance of self-care, the acceptance of downtime, and the potential for this period to instill healthier habits and a more balanced perspective on life.

Opinions

The author previously equated productivity solely with activities that yield financial returns or advance one's life goals.
They express a long-standing aversion to wasting time and a history of constant activity without true rest.
The lockdown has challenged the author's traditional views on productivity, leading to a broader, more inclusive definition that encompasses self-care and personal development.
The author acknowledges the societal pressure to always be productive and the guilt associated with not meeting these expectations.
They advocate for the importance of mental health breaks and the benefits of taking time off to reassess life priorities.
The author believes that the lockdown period can be a valuable time for introspection and forming healthier habits, which may lead to increased productivity and motivation in the future.

I No Longer Feel Guilty for Not Being Lockdown-Productive

What am I up to? Nothing. Mind your own business.

I hate wasting my time away.

It’s the worst feeling in the world. I hate being unproductive and not doing anything that would demonstrably contribute to moving me forward in life.

But I have also never really taken a break before.

Yes, I have been on several months-long backpacking trips, but even when away, my mind could never truly rest. There were still obligations and responsibilities to tackle once the trip was over. Often, the anxiety from what was about to come after would overshadow my joy of travel altogether.

In my life, I followed the traditional path and went from high school to university and from university to work. No gap years, no “taking some time to figure out what I want to do in life,” and no “going to grad school because I don’t know what else to do, and I got too comfortable in the student lifestyle.”

I gave myself no time to breathe.

The concept of “always running out of time” makes me severely anxious. As a consequence, I’ve always been chasing something with stopping. For years, my main reason for avoiding antidepressants was that I couldn’t “afford” to take three weeks off of my life during which I wouldn’t study or work and instead take care of my mental health.

I can imagine that many of us don’t have that kind of luxury of free time in life.

Moving to Australia

This moment was supposed to be my adult version of a “gap year” — taking some time off from my regular life to experience something new before coming back to Prague and moving onto some bigger, more serious, and more permanent things.

But still, even though it’s a much more exciting way to spend time in your mid-twenties than being stuck in an office, I can’t lie — my primary motivation for coming here was monetary gain.

The difference in earning potential between Australia and the Czech Republic is enormous, and I wanted to take full advantage of that. I wanted to make money while living a new, different, less stressful life for a while, and then take the bag and go home.

I didn’t come here to be backpacking around broke, and I certainly didn’t come here to sit on the couch and watch cooking shows.

After traveling through Asia for a month and a half, I was already starting to feel slobby and was more than ready to get back to work when I settled in Perth back in March.

But we all know what happened around that time of this year.

Enter: The Rona

Having arrived in the land Down Under only a few days ahead of the pandemic and with no plan, I wasn’t able to secure a job in time. And so, similarly to many others, I found myself unemployed in lockdown.

In the first few weeks, I still had hope for finding work. I applied to every position that was available and refused to accept not having a job as an option. Even though I am lucky enough to be able to survive on my savings, the idea of being stuck at home with literally nothing to do was terrifying.

But with many Australians being in the same dire situation as myself, I quickly came to realize that as a foreigner, I didn’t stand a chance. So I eventually gave up and sank into the sofa, just waiting for this situation to pass.

And for the first time in my life, I am doing absolutely nothing.

I became a sloth.

At first, it was tough and disheartening. The lockdown just so happened to collide with my annual spring depression, which arrived despite my seasons now being switched up. It was due to the anxiety from questioning whether I made the right choice when I decided to stay in Australia, and some other things not going great in my life as well.

In isolation, there are limited ways to distract yourself from your dark feelings. You can only do so many things in a day before you exhaust your options and are forced to face your demons.

And that’s what I decided to do with my time.

Most of my days are boring. They mainly consist of writing, watching YouTube or Netflix, doing some yoga, and cooking. Small talk with my flatmate and the occasional video call. Perhaps reading a book here and there. And lots of thinking and reflecting.

In my world, for the longest time, being productive only meant doing something that makes you money or brings you closer to your life goals. And none of the things I am doing now with my time fit my definition of productivity.

Productive unproductivity

The lockdown unemployment situation forced me to change my world view significantly. Maybe we don’t always have to be hustling and grinding. Perhaps we can benefit from allowing ourselves to be “lazy” for the time being. And maybe being productive can have many different forms and meanings.

Maybe being lockdown-productive can mean doing little things.

Writing about something you have been aching to heal from. Practicing your chaturanga. Reading books. Learning new things about the world by watching documentaries. Cooking a traditional meal with your flatmate.

Maybe lockdown productivity can mean resetting our lives and forming healthier habits, such as working out, quitting smoking, or eating healthier and more regularly.

Some of the things we’re doing in lockdown might seem insignificant now, but they’re going to benefit us somewhere down the line in the future.

So, what have I been up to?

Not much, and I no longer feel the need to apologize for it.

I am existing, taking care of myself, being kind to myself, and doing things that make me happy and keep me sane. I no longer feel the need to justify my existence by productivity.

So as long as you are not affected, please stop making me feel guilty about it. I am still independent and self-sufficient, and I can afford and should be able to be lazy once in a lifetime.

And hopefully, this lockdown will give me the tools to emerge more productive and motivated than ever once this is all over.