I have been struggling lately with time. It keeps sneaking away from me. I cannot figure out how in the world my oldest is already finished with his first year of college. And by the time this goes to print, my twins are driving and my youngest has his permit. When and how did all of this happen?
I have always liked to be busy. Like perpetually busy to a fault. And maybe I don’t really like it but have always felt like I needed to be busy. But why? To prove my worthiness to the world? To prove that I can multitask? That I work harder than others? Does it get me ahead in life? Nope. But it does exhaust me and leave me feeling hollow most days.
Here is something that the productivity culture rarely admits: being busy is not the same as living well. In fact, chronic busyness can be its own form of avoidance — a way to fill every hour so completely that you never have to sit with yourself, your thoughts, or the quieter questions of what your life’s true purpose is.
The research on this is sobering. Constant busyness elevates cortisol, erodes sleep, weakens relationships, and dulls creativity. People who describe themselves as constantly busy often report feeling less satisfied with their lives, not more — because activity and meaning are not the same thing. Busyness can masquerade as purpose while simultaneously crowding it out.
I recently discovered the personal time study concept. A time study is simply the practice of tracking every activity throughout your day in real time — not from memory, but in the moment. You log what you’re doing, when you started, and when you stopped. That’s it. No complicated app required, no special training. Just honesty about where your hours actually go.
I did this for a few days. And I am embarrassed to say how much time I spent on low-value activities (moving piles around the house because I need to declutter, answering texts and emails every five minutes) and overestimated how much time I spend on things that bring my life meaning.
This is where a time study becomes more than a productivity exercise. When you slow down enough to look clearly at your days, you may discover something unexpected. That the moments you’ve been rushing past — a quiet morning cup of coffee, an unhurried walk, a conversation that had nowhere to go — are the ones that actually feel like living.
Tonight I was on my phone and one of my kids was laying next to me on the couch. I decided to put my phone down and rub his back. Words didn’t need to be spoken. I simply soaked up the moment feeling so grateful that he was next to me, his gentle energy radiating over me like a warm embrace. My phone almost stole that moment from me.
I encourage you to track where your time goes and evaluate if you have enough of the slow moments that bring you real joy. A slower life is not a smaller life, it is a much bigger one.
Lisa Payne writes about home, food, and family. You can reach her at paynefam6@gmail.com.
