Who Said Life Should be Stressful?
About a month ago, a question popped into my head that asked, “Who said life had to be stressful?”
I paused. What did I just hear?
I thought about it a little deeper. Who is it—society, people’s own minds, general public sentiment—that said that my life needed to be stressful, busy, chaotic, or frantic? Why did their opinions matter when it came to the pace of how I set up my life? How did my own expectation of feeling hurried and busy become a norm?
And then I started wondering: is there a different way to live? Can I choose what I want my life to look like each day? If I can, what do I actually want?
Why don’t I strive for a baseline of days filled with peace, joy, and simplicity?
To live in a society whose default is “busy” is, when you really think about it, nonsense. What are we busy for? Why do we try to fit everything in? Why do we assume that every free hour needs to be filled with something productive, social, entertaining, or useful?
I don’t think most of us consciously decide that we want to live frantic lives. I certainly didn’t. It happens slowly. You add one thing, then another. Then you squeeze an appointment into an already-full afternoon because technically you can. And you tell yourself you’ll rest later. Eventually, being busy stops feeling like something you’re doing and starts feeling like the way life is supposed to feel.
And I think that’s what struck me so much about that question: Who said it had to be this way?
The Workout Class
Last week, I saw that there was a workout class I wanted to go to at my gym. I chose to spend a little extra time eating breakfast with my husband, and I knew I might be pushing it to squeeze in the class too. But I could still make it, right?
Then came the moment of truth.
I was so tempted to rush off and be a few minutes late to the class. I felt that familiar urgency creeping in from the way I had trained myself since I was young. Eat quickly and leave everything at home a mess to clean up later. Get dressed quickly. Get in the car. Drive quickly. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
And the funny thing was that I knew exactly how I would feel if I did. Frazzled. Annoyed. Out of breath. Probably mad at the slow driver whose fault it was not that I was late. Already behind before I had even arrived.
And for what?
A workout class.
I stopped and thought about how I wanted my morning to feel. I had just spent extra time sitting at the table with Ephraim, enjoying my breakfast instead of rushing through it. That was a good thing. It was exactly the kind of ordinary, peaceful moment that I say I want more of in my life.
So why was I suddenly willing to undo all of that peace just to make it to a workout class?
And then I realized something very simple: I didn’t have to go.
I could accept that I had chosen one thing over another. I could let the workout class go without feeling guilty about it. And I didn’t need to rush, speed, cram, or stress myself out just because I technically could still make it.
So I didn’t rush.
I stayed home.
And you know what?
Nothing happened.
The world did not end because I missed a workout class. I didn’t fall behind. There wasn’t some great consequence for choosing to have a slower morning. In fact, I think I gained something much more valuable than the workout itself: peace. And I keep thinking about how often we sacrifice our peace for things that aren’t actually that important.
The Good and The Better
How often do we take something that is supposed to be good—a workout, an errand, dinner with friends, a project we enjoy—and turn it into another source of stress simply because we have decided that we must fit it in?
We create these imaginary deadlines for ourselves. We tell ourselves that we have to accomplish this one more thing before the day is over. And because there is technically always something else that could be done, there is never really an end to it.
But I have to face the painful reality – I don’t want “getting things done” to be the measure of a good day. I don’t want to look back at my life and realize that I spent all of my time trying to keep up with it.
So instead of asking, “How can I fit this in?,” maybe the better question is, “Do I actually want this in my day?”
That question has changed something for me because the answer isn’t always yes. And I think we need to become more comfortable with that.
Maybe you don’t need to attend every event you’re invited to. Maybe you don’t need to take on every opportunity that comes your way. Or maybe you can decide that dinner can be simple tonight. Maybe things need to be left undone for a while. And it’s not because you’re lazy or undisciplined or incapable of managing your time. It’s because you are allowed to decide that peace is worth protecting.
The truth is that I want margin. I want peace in every moment of every day, not just as a rare treat. I want my schedule to be what God wants me to do each day. And God likely wouldn’t give me a schedule that’s frantic and chaotic. That sounds like my will, not His.
Slowing down, being prayerful, and savoring each moment are the goals for my day.
Restful, Not Stressful
I’m learning that life should be restful, not stressful. A restful life isn’t something that happens after you’ve finished everything else.
I’m learning that peace has to be built into the way you live. Peace is a gift from God that we cultivate in our hearts. We can choose to stay under peace like an umbrella protecting against the rains of life.
I’m learning that simplicity isn’t about having fewer responsibilities or having a life where nothing ever goes wrong. It’s about refusing to make hurry the default. It’s about recognizing that I have a say in what fills my days and what doesn’t.
And most importantly, I don’t need anyone else’s permission to live at a different pace.
Who said that life had to be stressful?
I don’t know who said it.
But I’m starting to think they were wrong.
