Switching off

It’s been too long since I’ve made any sweeping generalisations about men and women so I’m just going to jump right in. In some ways men are better at life than women. I realised this, not for the first time, the other day while reading an interview with Emma Isaacs on a site called Coping with Jane. Emma is a hugely successful entrepreneur, the chief executive of Business Chicks,  a wife and a soon-to-be mother of three. Just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, exceptional overachiever.

In the interview about balancing work and home she said this. “I spend my life trying to think and act like my husband when it comes to parenting. He thinks absolutely nothing of walking out the door and surfing for half the day whereas if I was going to do something similar, I’d experience some level of guilt and a lot of internal talk about whether I’m making the right decision or not.”

I nodded furiously at that point. It might surprise you to learn that I don’t set out to be neurotic or to make life especially difficult for myself. But, as you may know, I’m good at it. Without even trying I have a knack for complicating things. Naturally I find it comforting to read other people, especially those of the extremely capable variety, are similarly afflicted.

Emma’s words resonated and reminded me of a recent Sunday afternoon, a perfect case in point. On the surface life looked pretty rosy. It was 3pm and all our weekend jobs were done. Groceries bought, clothes washed, dinner already cooked and the house was in relative order. My head, by contrast, was in chaos. Free time!! How to spend it?!? Mr G was taking the girls out for a walk and my mind was swimming with choices. A nap? Watch some telly? Write a blog? Go with Mr G and the girls? Oooh what to pick??? Sitting here typing that out it’s easy to see this was not a difficult choice. Not remotely. The options were all attractive and my pick was hardly going to change the world. 

Well try telling that to my mind. I was swinging wildly between each of my options, weighing up the merits of my various choices, considering the alternatives, undergoing a full blown SWOT analysis of each and basically carrying on as if my choice would somehow dictate my entire life’s purpose and worth.

Initially I decided to read on my bed. Then I thought, no, I should sleep while I can. And just as I had pulled the eye mask over my head I pulled back the covers, jumped out of bed and called out to the tribe who had just departed the house, “Wait for me, I’m coming!"

My deliberations were along these lines: If I don’t sleep I’m not looking after myself properly. If I don’t blog, I’m not a good blogger. If I don’t spend time with the girls and Mr G, I’m not a good mum and wife. If I don’t read all the papers, I’m not engaging my mind enough. If I don’t stop all this silly carry on I won’t do anything with my spare time except drive myself spare!!

Once I was out of the house and walking Mr G asked why I had changed my mind. I got about 30 seconds into explaining the mental gymnastics I had just endured when I saw the look in his eyes. It’s the look that says “Oh boy you really do make life unnecessarily complicated sometimes.” Yes sir, I do.  So, like Emma, I’m going to give my husband’s approach to spare time a go. There is something to be said for mindfulness but there’s also a lot to be said for knowing when and how to turn it off. And if that time is not a Sunday afternoon I don't know when is.

Are you good at switching off? Or do you gently torture yourself over all of your choices? Anyone??