Being as the antidote
When visual artist, poet and philosopher, Kahlil Gibran was concerned that his physical illness and inability to create would disappoint his benefactress Mary Haskell, she responded to him with the most gracious quote:
'Your work is not only in books and pictures. They are but bits of it. Your work is YOU, not less than you, not parts of you... These days, when you "cannot work" are accomplishing it, are of it, like the days when you "can work". There is no division. It is all one. Your living is all of it; anything less is part of it. - your silence will read with your writings some day, your darkness will be part of the Light.
As I read this quote and nodded vigorously in agreement, I had no idea that in just a week's time, I would have an emergency surgery that will render me unable to work for a period of time. Nor did I realise that I would feel something of what Kahlil Gibran must have felt and that Mary Haskell's words will continue to extend grace generously centuries later.
Prior to my surgery, I visited the A&E a couple of times. Following the first visit, I was still feeling out of sorts. It was a Monday and I was hyper aware of all that I needed to do and yet I couldn't work.
We only recently just launched out new platform Carra and this was not the time for break. I could feel that familiar productivity guilt rising. Two friends, as though they could hear the tension in my thoughts independently offered proactive messages to remind me that I needed to prioritise my health.
Later that week, we would learn that the reason why I ended up in A&E was an inflamed gallbladder complete with 15 gallstones! Lying in bed post-surgery, I realise how foolhardy my earlier thoughts had been. I ask myself:
'Wait was I really having productivity guilt when my body was fighting a severe gallbladder attack?'
I start to reply to myself with a glib remark about how our generation were fervent worshippers at the cult of productivity but somehow, that does not seem sufficient an explanation nor does it explain Gibran's experience.
So what exactly was it? An innate human tendency to exalt the work of our hands to the extent that we despair when they aren't in motion... 'doing', 'achieving', etc? Some sort of work-dysmorphia that brandishes all non-productive time as irrelevant? And if these guesses are even close to the ballpark, what must we do about it? Is it an impulse that we are to live with or try to override?
It seems Mary Haskell is offering an altogether radical approach of embracing the days we are 'creating' and 'not creating' as one in the same.
This is both comforting and an altogether challenging concept to me. I intellectually recognise the point she is making but I struggle to feel it and apply it to my own life. You mean to tell me that even when I'm taking a break and watching Bridgerton that I am still ‘accomplishing it' as she says? That it isn't wasteful?
In Glennon Doyle's Untamed, the doorbell becomes a metaphor for the lessons that life is trying to teach us. I begin to wonder about what my discomfort is trying to tell me about my own beliefs?
It must be that I inextricably link productivity, output to my own personal worth.
All clues I had growing up reinforced this belief. My father worked incredibly hard and against all odds, gave all 7 of us a stellar education. The message was that you had to work hard to become. I have been striving-mode from a very young age. So even now, when my mother tells me to take it easy and lay down even if I am not sleeping, it feels foreign to me for I have been raised to be a do-er.
I am not coming to the conclusion that hard work is bad. It deserves the merit it is accorded. What I am saying is that maybe there is something even bigger than hardwork…and that is BEING.
...BEING sharpens our ability to perceive, observe and create
...BEING prioritises meaning and purpose
...BEING allows us to revel in our own essence, remain true and heed the heart's calling
A very wise person told me that this is living in recognition of the fact that we are the core. The things we do don't define us. He said we ought to applaud ourselves for not doing and that it should get the same applause as the times when we have had the most productive day!
I think he might be right.
So now whenever my body feels tired, I'm learning to listen. When I'm in need of rest and recovery, I give in wholeheartedly. When I need to be still, I surrender because rest makes me the most potent version of myself.
(Image credit: Sol Feliz, Leonard Violeta)