doing less than we are able — on purpose
The Pressure to Max Out
We live with the cultural and internalized belief that if we can take more on, we should. An extra five minutes? Great – what all can we get done in that time?
As a classic Type-A personality and chronic over-doer, I used to measure much of my worth by what I could produce, provide, or accomplish. Maxing out my energy seemed expected, and if I didn’t comply, what would people think of me? What would I think of myself?
Naturally, it wasn’t enough to just do something. It was about doing it right, always giving it my best, and then some. When I wasn’t actively doing, I was thinking about doing, planning, and strategizing every detail in advance. I literally thought about my lesson plans in my sleep.
Over years, this constant pushing left me physically, mentally, and emotionally depleted. I had almost no time to just be, to spend quality time with loved ones, or tend to my well-being.
When my body finally commanded my attention in an unmistakable way, I realized that pushing myself to the limits wasn’t noble or sustainable. There was no virtue in my body’s collapse and no reward for endangering my health. Since then, I’ve had much time to redefine what “reasonable productivity” means and to contemplate a new way of being.
Choosing to Do Less
My physical therapist once told me something I’d never heard before: Try doing less than you’re able.
This followed a period of frustration at not physically being able to walk or manage tasks as I once had, and suffering spikes in pain when I pushed myself. Stopping before I had to was a radical new concept.
If I could unlearn my tendency to overdo, I wouldn’t feel that sense of “failure” as often. And if I planned for pauses instead of powering through, I could avoid further strain and leave some reserves of stamina and energy for myself.
I started implementing this and quickly saw its wisdom. Those pauses gave me permission to assess where my body and energy were at without pushing past my limits. It required a substantial shift in my thinking, habits, and work ethic.
I realized I’d been unfairly comparing myself to a past version of Julie that no longer existed. I had to rethink my definition of productivity and let go of what had clearly been unsustainable to begin with.
Over time, I changed my views on “doing” entirely. Yes, I moved more slowly and paused more often, but I was also doing things more intentionally, with greater focus. In reality, I was doing them better and smarter.
Untangling Worth from Output
Letting go of the need to prove ourselves through doing is harder than it sounds.
I had to confront my long-held notions of laziness and sloth and ask myself where they had come from. It became clear they weren’t my own creations, but deeply ingrained expectations I’d carried for years.
The radical act of stopping before we hit the wall is like learning a new language.
I found myself asking new questions:
Can I live with the disappointment of not doing everything I wish I could?
Would that diminish my worth?
Could I still be valued if I did less than I was “able”?
Gradually, I untangled my worth from my output. I began noticing other ways I was valued: in my relationships, my community, and in ways far more precious than a completed to-do list. Even if my body only allowed a five-minute walk some days, I knew I was still a worthy human being.
Sometimes those old echoes still tempt me to keep going when I shouldn’t. But I now recognize that urge as nothing more than cultural conditioning by a system that profits from our overextending. Refusing to fall for it any longer has become an act of reclaiming my self-agency, and choosing peace over productivity feels far more powerful than pushing myself ever did.
Making Space for What Matters
When was the last time you sat on the floor with a sketchpad? Or strolled in your garden just to see what magic happened overnight? When did you last listen to your body’s signals and adjust your day accordingly?
I used to wait until weekends to catch up with people or linger over a meal (on an actual plate), and even then, I worked late into the night. Now, everything is deliberately different. I design my days with openness and flexibility built in, letting my body and energy direct the pace.
Each morning, I sort my list into what’s truly urgent vs. what can wait until another day, or another week. It’s interesting to notice that most of it can wait. Getting beyond the most essential is a bonus, but not a requirement.
I remind myself that the most important thing I can do each day is protect my energy and show up for the one person who needs my attention most: myself. From that space, I can be at my best for everyone and everything else.
Practical Ways to Intentionally Do Less
Doing less is about setting gentle, loving boundaries with ourselves and redefining productivity. It’s about preserving energy for what matters most.
Some of my daily strategies:
Avoid overcommitting.
Build in breaks.
Split tasks into increments.
Listen to my body — it’s my new boss.
Declutter and simplify my environment.
Stop well before I “hit the wall.”
Tell myself, Well done! (often).
One favorite ritual of mine is keeping a cup of tea nearby. I commit to drinking it while it’s hot, which means I need to pause frequently to do that. Each sip is a reminder to reassess: Where am I at right now? Am I getting close to my “enough?”
Recognizing “Enough”
What does “enough” mean to you? That word might unsettle you, but maybe it should. Asking this question deepens our self-trust and intuition, and it challenges the belief that our worth comes from doing more.
To practice this, start small: Choose one task and decide in advance what “enough” will look like. Stop there, and notice how it feels.
For me, “enough” often looks like this:
My body clearly says, “Be done, now.”
My thinking is no longer productive.
Pain worsens.
Expending energy feels depleting.
I feel more discouraged by continuing than by stopping.
It’s incredibly liberating to define what enough means for myself now. It’s also empowering to recognize it when I’m there. I feel freer, more released from that false sense of worth dictated by someone else’s definitions.
For most of us, “enough” is something we’ve not been conditioned to identify for ourselves. However, once we open the door to exploring what it means for each of us on an intuitive level, we may never go back.
Doing less than we are able, on purpose, opens space for presence, creativity, and restoration. These are the very things our culture undervalues, but they’re also the very things we desperately need.
May we all consider doing less than we’re able more often, and may we always remember the immortal words of Mary Poppins: “Enough is as good as a feast.”
*overdoing chronic pain expectations self-awareness gentleness boundaries presence restoration creativity self-preservation mindfulness enough productivity Type A slowing down