What’s the better choice on a hot day? Run under the sprinkler, or stream any movie of your choice under the air conditioner? Photo: Elena Rabkina.
In an increasingly fast-paced world with endless choices, decision-fatigue and the pressures of technology beeping away in our pockets, it’s easy to feel like we’re always chasing our tails. Sometimes I wish we could rewind and re-learn how to live more slowly – and mindfully.
Looking back at my childhood in a typical, middle-class Aussie family in the 80s and 90s, life was simple.
We didn’t have air conditioning, so on scorcher days we ran under sprinklers and slept with wet face washers on our heads.
With no mobile phones keeping us ‘connected’, we rattled around our suburb on bikes – armed only with a sense of spontaneity and a vague curfew.
No streaming services meant little choice. We all ate our Vegemite toast in front of Agro’s Cartoon Connection (neither of which is particularly palatable these days).
Life was simple for us kids, but, of course, the grown-ups had their issues.
Wrestling with skyrocketing interest rates, frugality wasn’t a lifestyle choice; it was a necessity. We drove old cars, reused everything, and my mother even sewed the odd school uniforms to stretch the dollar.
Nowadays, the ‘cost of living’ (a terrifying phrase) has crept up again astronomically – but we also struggle to simply keep up with the pace of life.
Driven by technology’s constant barrage of notifications, micro-choices and life admin, it feels like we’ve lost the space to be mindful with our time and resources.
We rush toward anything that promises convenience, but in doing so, we’re often unintentionally adding to our overwhelm. Adding yet another app to an overcrowded home screen.
Nowadays, my parents are enjoying a comfortable retirement, but their thrift mentality has not abated.
I recently observed my mother sun herself in the backyard. Laughing, I noted that she wore her cotton sunhat upside-down.
She simply explained, “I do that at home, so it doesn’t fade too quickly”.
Yes, my mother rotates her hat to protect its longevity.
Ridiculous or genius? Perhaps somewhere in between. But certainly something I would never think to do. This small, intentional choice reflects clear headspace (so to speak). I’m simply not sure we younguns have anymore in our top-speed, max-capacity, tech-ruled lives.
But it’s certainly ‘on brand’ for my boomer parents.
When we visit the grandparents, my kids play with perfectly preserved toys from my own youth. Polly Pockets and vintage Barbies – all with belongings organised into tiny storage containers. Puzzles not missing a single piece. Old books have taped pages.
In contrast, my house is basically a dystopian hellscape for toys.
My maintenance approach sits somewhere between Marie Kondo and Sid’s room from Toy Story. If I find the chance to vacuum the floors and a tiny plastic Barbie shoe doesn’t have the good sense to get out of my way, guess where it’s going? Fwooosh! You do not bring me joy.
Just getting everyone out the door every morning often feels like a poorly organised escape room, so if my kids finally pull their pants on only to find a big hole in the knee, where do you think those pants are going? Hint: it’s not the sewing table.
Far from sewing, many of us millennials don’t even clean our own homes. We pay a professional to protect our precious and ever-dwindling ‘spare’ time.
But before you judge us, remember, a great deal has changed between ‘then’ and ‘now’.
First, there are more women in the workforce, and more households need dual incomes to make ends meet. This means very few people have a traditional ‘homemaker’ in the family, creating a perpetual struggle to keep up with work and domestic labour.
Fulfilling both roles is quite literally two jobs.
And while the technology revolution has brought remarkable societal advances, it’s also left us with immense personal burdens, an expanding workload and sensory overload.
The shift from customer service to self-service means tasks once handled for us are piled on our to-do lists, under the guise of convenience.
Every shopping trip feels like working for several multinational corporations, and having children now involves downloading about five new apps.
And all of this must be achieved while constantly acknowledging the addictive little monster in our pocket, buzzing for our attention and rewarding us with desperately needed dopamine.
As we navigate modern life, we must be cognisant of rushing towards things that leave us too distracted to live intentionally.
Personally, I wish we could wind back some of the modern ‘conveniences’ that consume our time, money and attention, leaving us the headspace to turn our hat upside down.
Original Article published by Hayley Nicholls on Region Canberra.
