Spaciousness. When asked what I want more of in my life, this is it. I keep saying I want more spaciousness in my schedule, but this vague “more spaciousness” idea is like nailing Jello to a wall. It doesn’t get me what I’m after. To make more space, I need more clarity. In what feels like a brave move, I’m playing with not working on Sundays.
As a solopreneur, I work a lot. I’m committed to responsiveness and connection. And I can teeter into obsessiveness about staying on top of everything. When my desk starts to sprawl with papers, books and files and my email box is overflowing with unread messages, my control muscles turn on and I get itchy and tight.
It is painfully clear, though, that hustle culture is not my friend. The culture that treats our bodies like machines whose sole purpose is to productivity is rooted in patriarchy, capitalism, slavery and white supremacy. I don’t want to contribute to any of that mess – directly or indirectly. Using my one wild precious life only to work on my business and check off my To Do list isn’t in alignment with what I know matters most.
These days, on Sundays, I’ve been walking away from my computer and instead focusing on the relationships and activities that deeply nourish me.
Mondays, however, roll around no matter what I choose to do on Sunday. After spending time hiking and watching basketball and reading Tana French, I find myself dismayed on Monday morning.
My email is bursting and class preparation is looming and all the other details have piled up into a tangle at my desk. Turns out when you choose to step away from grind culture, grind culture keeps grinding. When I don’t work, not much gets done.
And here is the pivotal moment: what do we do when the consequences of an aligned, liberating choice inevitably land in our laps? What do we do when “the roosters come home to roost”?
In a recent episode of the We Can Do Hard Things podcast, Glennon Doyle shared an update on her healing from anorexia. Part of her process is that she gets on a scale every day but can see nothing. No numbers. Nothing. All the information goes to her therapist. At the outset, the two of them decided that the therapist would not share any of the data until Glennon gained a certain amount of weight. This arrangement gives Glennon a sense of control and safety so she can focus on her day-to-day process.
The day her therapist said, “We agreed that I would tell you when you gained this much weight and now you have” was the day that Glennon said, “The roosters have come home to roost.”
Like they do.
Whenever we choose to make different choices than our habit, than the social norm, any time we move beyond the constricting rules of a controlling patriarchal culture, there will be roosters. And they will come home to roost.
You don’t get an A. You don’t get the promotion. You gain the weight. Your relationship is uncomfortable. The house isn’t pristine. And your work doesn’t get done.
The question is, what do we do then?
Retreating and going back to old choices makes sense. It feels safer to do what we’ve been told and get back in line. No matter how you feel about it, moving into the world with the consequences all out there to see can feel deeply uncomfortable. I’ve done it many times: make a brave choice and then back away from it — mostly without realizing what I’m doing.
So, what do we do when the roosters come home to roost?
Do we go back to the comfortable familiarity of grind culture? Do we go back to working weekends? Do we go back to restricting and controlling food and exercise? Do we go back to letting the racist comments and the misogynist jokes pass? Do we go back to saying, “Boys will be boys” and letting sexual assault be just what happens?
It takes courage to live beyond the cultural constraints that are designed to keep us small and silent.
It takes another level of courage to stay with those choices when the roosters come home to roost.
Let the roosters do what they’re gonna do. Keep making the choices that make you – and everyone around you – free.