Why Every Minute Doesn't Need a Job

I am very good at filling time.

If I suddenly have half an hour free, I rarely sit there wondering what to do with myself. There is always an email that could be answered, something that needs organising, an article I should read or some little job sitting somewhere in the back of my mind.

For years I probably considered that a strength. I was being productive. I was using my time well. Now I'm not quite so sure.

One thing I've noticed about myself is that some of my clearest thinking happens when I'm not actively trying to think at all.

I can sit at my desk staring at something for an hour and get nowhere, then go out for a walk and suddenly the answer appears. Sometimes it's when I'm driving. Sometimes when I'm outside. Occasionally it's simply standing in the kitchen making something to eat.

My brain seems to need some time when nobody is asking anything of it. And I don't think I'm particularly good at giving it that time.

Our phones certainly haven't helped. The moment there is a pause, there is something to look at. We can fill five spare minutes before a meeting, while we're waiting for a coffee, on the train or even walking to the shops. There is almost always something available to fill the gap.

But I'm starting to wonder whether those gaps are actually quite useful.

This has also made me think about what I learned through sport.

At Olympic level, we worked hard, but nobody expected us to train at maximum intensity every minute of every day. That simply wouldn't have worked. Recovery was part of the training because the body needed time to respond to the work we'd done.

I understood that as an athlete. I'm not always as good at applying the same thinking to the rest of my life. I can still have a tendency to think that an hour without an obvious output is an hour wasted.

Yet an hour walking may be the thing that helps me solve a problem. Twenty minutes outside may mean I come back to my desk with more energy. Finishing work a little earlier may mean I sleep properly and am more useful the following morning.

And there is another part of this that matters to me. I don't only want to create space so that I can become more productive. Sometimes I want space simply because life is happening.

There should surely be time to walk down the road and notice the leaves changing, sit outside when the sky is blue, have an unhurried conversation or do something purely because I enjoy it.

Not everything has to justify itself by making us better at work. Perhaps that's part of what my 80% experiment is really about. Not doing things less well, but not filling every bit of available capacity either. Leaving some room for thinking, recovery and things I haven't planned for. And, occasionally, just enjoying where I am rather than rushing towards whatever comes next.

I'm definitely not brilliant at this. But I'm practising.

So, I'm curious: does every available moment in your day already have a job?

And what might happen if a few of them didn't?

Thank you for taking the time to read 'Why Every Minute Doesn't Need a Job'. If there are any other topics that you'd be keen to hear more about, I'd love to know. Please drop me an email at hello@kateslatter.com.

Why Every Minute Doesn't Need a Job

By Kate Slatter