This week and next, in lieu of actual “vacation” time, I have been trying to adopt a “work light” mode. “Work light” in my world is about declining non-essential work meetings, choosing to focus on projects that I haven’t had time for (e.g. my syllabus, unpacking my office) and e-mail for no more than a few hours per day total, and spending the rest of the time doing something of my choosing that brings me joy.

This experience has turned into a reflection on forms of labor and a reframing of my relationship with work. My friend and colleague Gwen calls my “work light” mode “working regularly” and posits that what we’ve (as a society) come to accept as a “regular” load is actually unhealthily unsustainable… something I’ve been pondering a lot. I am reading Work Won’t Love You Back by Sarah Jaffe (in my “free” time, which is in quotes because part of my research actually looks at the ways in which labor is constructed/ invisibilized for teachers under discourses of love and care) and realizing how much of my time is spent in various forms of (paid and unpaid) labor, whether at home or in relation to my professional life.

While I love the people both at home and at work (and in the other areas of my life), the failure to acknowledge all of the labor that I engage in has led to resentment, exhaustion, and very poor boundary setting. I’ve come to realize that because I so deeply value relationships and relationality in my life, anything involving others has an importance (sometimes a disproportionately amplified one) that leads to a sense of deep obligation. This has led to me neglecting myself or pushing myself beyond healthy limits to serve others, to serve institutions, and to serve goals that aren’t necessarily aligned with who I am.

When I am up close in these moments, I cannot distinguish between the transactional and the relational. I often struggle to prioritize as every thing (except for my own well-being) feels urgent. I also struggle to delegate because I feel that not doing something myself is “letting down” someone else (or the team). Everything has to get done and it has to get done as quickly (and perfectly) as possible. And, because I am in a field (and have always been) where there is always more to do, never enough time to do it in, and the stakes feel incredibly high (because, children), I always feel behind which causes me to be angry at myself and very hard to live with. I see this sometimes, and I see how this models for my own children a form of unhealthy sacrificial love that gets so caught up in the doing, it forgets how to be. I see all of this, but I struggle to take a step back.

This week has been many steps back.

And/or perhaps, many steps forward.

It has been about acknowledging when stress and urgency come up in my body and checking in about why I might be reacting in ways that I can see don’t honor my own humanity or the humanity of people that I love. It has been about trusting that things will get done in their time and that imperfection can be good enough. It has been about remembering that I also deserve grace and that the grace I show myself is amplified by the way I am able to hold greater space for others.

It has also been about boundaries, about not forcing myself to take on others’ urgency, about moving at my own pace and allowing for others to move at theirs without (or with less, I’m still working on this in my personal life!) judgment. It has been about acknowledging that I cannot do all the things and being okay with that, asking for help, and leaning into the love that is around me.

All of this is (the) work too, in some ways. Sustainability and joy as forms of resistance are (the) work in that they don’t come naturally in a productivity driven society. The work will be there or it will move on, but there will always be plenty to do. I am better doing it when I am truest to myself (and not trying to do all of it). That is the best service to community I can bring.

I recommend “work light” or perhaps “work regular” or perhaps simply “work agency” or perhaps simply “human agency,” stepping into spaces truly meant for us, graciously acknowledging when we need space to regroup, and spending more time present in our bodies which hold more knowledge than our minds sometimes lead us to believe.

Looking forward to what I will learn next week.