Overworking, Overparenting, Overconsuming: How to break free when 'Doing Less’ isn’t that simple
The Story
“I'll never forget the moment I realized I had become a human doing instead of a human being.
It was a Tuesday evening, and I was sitting in my car in the driveway, engine off, but unable to get out. Not because I was tired, though I was, but because I was mentally preparing for the next shift. Walk through the door, help with homework, make dinner, respond to the work emails that had piled up, prep for tomorrow's presentation, check the news (mistake), worry about the news (bigger mistake), scroll through social media to see what other families were doing (biggest mistake), and somehow fit in quality time with my family.
I sat there for ten minutes, just breathing, and realized I couldn't remember the last time I had done something purely for joy. Not productivity disguised as self-care. Not activities that would make me a better parent or employee. Just... joy.
That's when I knew something had to change.” - My client Sarah*, a Marketing Manager and Mother of 2
The Challenge
Here's what Sarah discovered: we're all carrying invisible weight. Not just the obvious stuff like work deadlines, family logistics, financial pressures, but the cognitive load of modern life. Our brains are running constant background programs, tracking everything that needs attention, anticipating problems, managing everyone else's needs.
We overwork because we've learned that our worth is tied to our output. We overparent by scheduling every moment of our children's lives, believing that more activities equals better parenting. We overconsume: news, social media, endless articles about optimization. And distract ourselves by jumping onto every single online sale notification. Mistaking the feeling of being informed and owning more than we can ever use, for actually taking care of ourselves.
Psychologists call it "cognitive load”, and it's exhausting. Your brain craves what researchers term "cognitive closure” - the relief that comes when things feel settled and complete. But in our always-on world, that closure never comes. There's always another email, another crisis, another notification demanding our attention.
So we keep doing more, hoping to finally reach that elusive state of "done." But here's the thing: we're not just struggling with time management. We're struggling with identity management.
Many of us learned early that our worth was tied to our usefulness. We became the ones who deliver, who anticipate needs, who hold it all together. And it worked, until it didn't.
My client Sarah*, a marketing manager and mother came to me completely exhausted. She wanted strategies to work less and be more present. But even after months of reflection, nothing changed on the surface. Not because she didn't want to change, but because she couldn't imagine who she would be without the constant doing.
"I'm scared to let go of everything," she finally admitted, "because I don't know what's left of me underneath it all."
The Breakthrough
That moment of naming the fear? That's not failure. That's the beginning.
Because here's what I've learned: you don't have to revolutionize your life overnight. You don't need to quit your job or completely overhaul your schedule.
You just need to start replacing small pockets of "busy time" with something that serves no purpose other than bringing you joy.
When did we decide that productivity was the highest virtue? When did we forget that humans need to play, to create, to engage with the world in ways that have no measurable outcome?
Consider the quiet revolution happening in living rooms and community centers everywhere:
The executive who discovered that shuffling cards and playing bridge silences her racing mind in ways meditation never could.
The secondary teacher who found that tending to tomatoes teaches patience better than any mindfulness app.
The consultant who learned that the rhythm of crochet hooks creates a meditative state no conference room ever provided.
My coaching client who realized that hitting tennis balls releases tension stored in muscles he didn't know were tight.
The parent who stopped overscheduling their kids and started teaching them to play cards instead, finding joy in their laughter rather than their achievements.
These aren't escapes from life - they're returns to life.
The Resolution
So here's what I did, and what I invite you to do:
I started with one hour per week. Just one hour a week that I reclaimed from the endless cycle of productivity and gave to something that made me smile. I tried several things: piano lessons, tennis, watercolor painting, swimming.
For me, it was two things (for now):
Watercolor painting. Terrible watercolor painting, to be clear. But there was something about watching colors bleed into each other on paper that quieted the constant chatter in my head. And I found a terrific Instagram account to paint along (PM me if you want some ideas)
And I swim. The first laps we do “play” to connect with the water. And the moment I dive and do some butterfly kicks everything starts to feel light. And my mind returns to a state of calm.
I didn't become a better employee, coach or parent because of it. I believe I became a more complete human. (NOT perfect 😉)
The Invitation
This week, I'm giving you permission to leave something unfinished. To let a call go to voicemail while you tend to something that feeds your soul instead of depleting it.
Pick up those cards. Plant that seed. Hold that paintbrush. Put down the phone and actually be present with your kids - not managing their experience, just enjoying it.
Let your hands remember what they were made for beyond typing and scrolling.
Your worth isn't measured by your output. Your value isn't determined by how many plates you can keep spinning. The work will still be there tomorrow.
But today, you get to remember who you are underneath all the doing.
Start small. Start with one hour. Start with the radical act of doing something purely because it brings you joy.
What would you do with one hour of reclaimed time? Let’s collect our ideas in the comments.
Warmly, Viviane
*Name has been changed for confidentiality