I took a month off of Medium, and this is what I learned
Ever wondered how people are writing an article every single day on Medium without power-sliding into burnout and misery? Me too! Here’s how I avoid it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about productivity recently.
And if you knew how little I’m actually getting done in my personal life these days, you’d understand why.
I see these people writing articles like, “I wrote an article on Medium every day for a year, and you should do it too.”
How?
How are you showing up every day?
Where are you finding the energy and creativity?
I ask this with deep admiration and awe because I truly believe I could never keep up with that level of output.
Even if writing an article on Medium every day is the quickest way to make money on this platform, I don’t think the trade-off is worth it — at least not for me.
Don’t get me wrong — I love writing here, I love the community, I love (most) of my fellow writers, I appreciate their support, and I love contributing to such a great collection of great writing.
But writing for this platform feels like a full-time job sometimes, even at a twice-weekly cadence. And when you already have a full-time job that isn’t Medium, it can be hard to keep up.
When you add in moving to a new apartment in a new city, and you have no one who can help you acclimatize or get settled,
No buds to help with the move and decompress after.
It becomes obvious that you need to let some things slide.
I realized I needed to let some plastic balls drop for a bit.
I came across this concept on Pinterest months ago, but it only really sunk in last week.
The idea is that you are constantly juggling everything in your life. But each thing you juggle is either a ball made of durable, sturdy plastic or fragile glass.
And sometimes you need to drop a plastic ball to keep your glass ones in the air.
“The key to juggling is to know that some of the balls you have in the air are made of plastic, and some are made of glass. And if you drop a plastic ball, it bounces, no harm done. If you drop a glass ball, it shatters, so you have to know which balls are glass and which are plastic and prioritize catching the glass ones.”
— Nora Roberts
For me, Medium felt very much like a plastic ball.
And the anxiety, exhaustion, and overstimulation of moving — all those new sights, sounds, and smells. The bone-tired feeling you sink into bed with at 7:30 p.m. The longing for a fresh vegetable after a week of eating takeout because you don’t have dishes yet.
I was struggling to keep any of my balls in the air, let alone keep the glass ones from shattering into a million pieces.
So I left some plastic on the pavement and continued juggling my lighter load of a couple of glass balls.
Here’s why I think this is important.
We often wonder how people are doing “all” the things we struggle to maintain.
When you see someone appearing to do it “all” seamlessly, without struggle or complaint, you compare yourself against that impossible standard. And they don’t tell you any different because they want you to think they have their shit together too.
But the truth is that most people don’t do it all. Most people can’t.
We all have to drop the plastic balls sometimes in order to keep our glass ones intact. We have to make sacrifices sometimes in order to find our shit, gather it up, and start keeping it together again.
And that is kind of why I wanted to write about it.
I wanted to open a window into what my world looks like when my shit is decidedly not together.
When I’m barely tossing two or three glass balls from hand to hand.
For context, that’s where I’m at right now. I’m sitting at my desk in the biggest, coziest sweater I own. I’ve been wearing that same sweater for five days and counting. My hair is still messy from the anxiety nap I had an hour ago.
And it’s taken every ounce of self-control I have in my body to sit down and write this instead of playing another eight hours of Stardew Valley.
We don’t have to do all of the things all of the time.
Sure, you have to eat and drink water, get sleep, and fresh air. These things are integral to your survival as an animal.
But do you need to kill yourself writing buttloads of content if you don’t have the bandwidth? Hell no.
Sometimes, you need to be away from the screen for a while. Sometimes, you need to stop thinking about work, goals, and productivity and just rot. Studio Ghibli fans can relate:
“Stop trying. Take long walks. Look at scenery. Doze off at noon. Don’t even think about flying. And then, pretty soon, you’ll be flying again.”
― Hayao Miyazaki
Resting is human, and it’s necessary.
I think that taking breaks when you need them to just exist actually helps your creativity in the long run. It gets you excited to come back, and it recalls the novelty of starting up again.
The best part about taking breaks is coming back to realize that even after all that time, you still have some of it.
So here’s your invitation to take a long break. Put down the plastic balls for a while. Tuck them away in a box at the back of the closet and get really good at juggling the glass ones again. Be patient.
One of these days, you’ll hear them calling you again. You’ll pull them out, dust them off, and be juggling like a pro again in no time.
Can’t get enough of me writing about stuff I find exciting? I have a weekly newsletter on Substack where I dive deep into whatever has caught my attention each week. I can’t wait to see you there!
