Happiness Before Busyness

“And what are you doing this summer?”

I opened my mouth, about to give me oft-used speech on how I was keeping myself busy this summer but then had a change of heart.

“Well, I am enjoying being back with my family and spending time with my sister. And, of course, I am looking forward to going to Ireland in July.”

“That’s nice,” she responded, clearly proud of the update she was able to give us on her own daughter’s impressive summer internship on Capital Hill.

We walked away and my mom turned to me with a confused expression.

“Why didn’t you tell her about math camp?”

“Because I don’t need to justify to other people the legitimacy of my summer plans.”

“But math camp is a real job, you are working and getting paid and doing something in your field.”

“And you know that, and I know that, and so if she gets to go tell people that Susannah Bane is just chilling out by the pool all summer so be it. I am working a half-day summer school camp, but I am also giving myself time to relax and spend my days meaningfully without schedule. I didn’t seek out a 9-5 internship for a reason.”

“Okay, but there’s nothing wrong with telling people what you’re doing.” My mom said, with her classic ‘one eyebrow raised expression’ to finish off the conversation.

Of course, my mom is not in the wrong. And I know she also loves me and wants to protect me and so she doesn’t want any fictitious rumors circling about my summer plans, or lack thereof. But if I need to have a couple people thinking I am up to no good by doing nothing at all in order to counter the stifling obsession with ‘plans’ that has seemed to consume my peers, then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.

Now at the ripe old age of 20 it seems as though I cannot get 10 seconds into a conversation without someone asking what I am doing this summer. Regardless of the fact that I just spent the last four months living across the ocean, it seems as though it is expected that someone halfway through her college career should be packing her time with resume-building internships and jobs.

I believe that because of our easy living in America we feel pressured to go out of our way to stay busy. So much of my daily life is easier here in Maryland. Every little part of the mechanics of my schedule is like the 2.0 version of how it was in Senegal. Public transportation follows a schedule, food is easy to find and already prepared, Internet is always at my fingertips, and I can fight impending summer heat with high-powered air-conditioning. Even the little things such as finding clean water and a toilet now feel effortless.

So when all this is done for us, we feel guilty for embracing the downtime that stems from our privilege and instead look for ways to be ever-occupied, placing worth on how well we manage to avoid the appearance of laziness. In Senegal, I never witnessed conversations where people got brownie points for having a jam-packed schedule. Few foods were pre-made, so going out of one’s way to make things by hand (only lengthening the preparation) would be viewed as illogical. In America, one is given a pat on the back for grinding her own almond butter and making soup from scratch. Beyond a difference in taste and health, these dedications are applauded because they show an apparent dedication to a busy life, where one is not afraid to spend a spare Sunday morning crafting batches of granola. Enjoying cooking and baking is one thing, but every single person who likes to talk about his homemade chia pudding recipe is not a budding chef.

Fitness is becoming a growing trend around the world, but dragging yourself out of bed every morning for a 5 a.m. spin class borders on obsessive. If I had tried to pull a similar stunt with my Senegalese host moms they would have thought I was crazy and put their foot down. In Senegal, the days were full enough with necessary labor (sweeping, washing, cooking) that going above and beyond to tire yourself out in the name of health is just silly.

We are taking the potential free time that is afforded to us because of well-stocked grocery stores and vacuum cleaners and using it to just find a way to stay busy with replacement tasks. However, in Senegal the gift of free time means family time or rest time.

Our fear of idleness probably has its firmest hold over our professional life. For many, school and work is not just a part of our life but the focus of our life. Family and friends are supporting characters to the main event of professional success. My friends are missing family vacations, siblings’ concerts, and weekend getaways with friends just so they can work over the summer. You can call me lazy but I am more than happy to spend my break with very few plans.

We treat ourselves to rest so rarely that when we actually do have time off we are exhausted and totally crash, which prompts us to believe that if we have too much free time we will just spend it binge-watching Netflix and sleeping. If we are go-go-go 24/7 then we naturally need time to relax, so when we ‘gift’ a mental health day to ourselves we are going to sort of vegetate. But once you start truly giving yourself the gift of substantial free time (I’m talking weeks, maybe months) then you find that this time can actually be used productively.

Sure my first couple days of freedom were pretty couch-bound, but after I realized that this gift of time was not going to vanish with an impending and tiring summer job I have started to really profit from the time. My days are filled with long visits to friends and family I couldn’t see while abroad. I help my parents by running errands, picking up my sister from school and helping her with homework. I am in the midst of cleaning and re-doing my room. I take time for my mental health by reading and going to yoga. And here I am now, sitting in Starbucks doing something I love- writing.

This blog might not be part of a lofty communications internship for an NGO, but it is something that is feeding my soul and educating me in its own unique way. Impromptu car rides with my sister teach me more than hours spent in a cubicle, and when I meditate at yoga I realize that I am truly just a small part in the big picture and it will all, honestly and truly, work out. I don’t need a five-year plan or a multi-page resume to live a fulfilled and meaningful life, I just need to live.