Not having to worry about filling in every hour beginning from the moment I wake up is a luxury I’m relishing this summer. College life has exhausted me in that respect. I don’t miss constantly having to time block for deep work at the library, then walk to the dining halls for my routine meals, and commute back to the library again to continue being productive.
It wasn’t even the case that I designed this routine to get stuff done. I actually feared having nothing to do. I feared that the mental space unlocked by a free schedule would give rise to demoralizing realities about my life that I wasn’t equipped to face.
However, it’s summer now and I’m appreciating the copious unstructured time I have.
I’ve lately been thinking about Cal Newport’s idea of slow productivity that is the subject of his next book. While much of the rhetoric in the work and productivity domain centers on optimizing the minutiae of each day by time blocking, scheduling bouts of deep work, maintaining to-do lists, responding to emails - slow-productivity points to a few crucial accomplishments to be attained in the span of years.
For me, this means getting my college degree, having independent sources of revenue, building up relationships with particular people, and sustaining a disciplined lifestyle directed towards longevity.
As such, I have been much more lenient on myself. I spend a few hours watching Netflix every day, relaxing on the couch as I desire, and indulging myself in my mom’s cooking. Being away in the dorms and periodically meditating on the age of my family members has lead me to the realization that such simple indulgences will be reachable only in memory soon.
“All that you see will soon have vanished, and those who see it vanish will vanish themselves” as Marcus Aurelius aptly reminds us from the second century.
That is not to say that one should resort to a life of complacency; meditating on the fragility of life is instead a motivator for intrepid actions that take full advantage of the beauty omnipresent in nature, people, and the capacity for growth.
Recently, I have been learning Android and iOS app development, which has panned out to be a valuable creative outlet. I bless my ears with the voices of Jordan Peterson, Ryan Holiday, and Tim Ferriss through numerous podcasts. An hour of my afternoons is dedicated to sitting with a book and a cup of coffee. I’m also biking at least 10 miles a day, coupled with some form of aerobic or anaerobic interval training session.
The long bike rides are definitely the best part of being home. Feeling the rhythm of my feet, the gentle air brushing against my skin, the occasional insect running into my face, and subordinating myself to the vast expanse of the trail are unrivaled experiences.
Once more, Marcus Aurelius fittingly articulates, “If you look at them in isolation there’s nothing beautiful about them, and yet by supplementing nature they enrich it and draw us in.”
This leisure is backed by a mindset valuing effectiveness over maximizing the return of each unit of time, including engagement with novel experiences such as parties and hikes that characterize the typical summer. While I’m not relying on an explicit 80/20 analysis of the activities and experiences that would optimize for the moment at hand, at a high level I understand what few things I can do now that will minimize regret in the future. If that means saying yes to an episode of Better Call Saul and no to preparing for my discrete math class then so be it.
So long as I’m in line with the core stoic principles of courage, temperance, justice, and wisdom, training for the impediments yet to come, and working in service for the people I love, I’m fulfilled in any given moment.
I will be heading to New York next week and Portugal in about a month, so the summer still has much to give.