My first week out of work. I filled my own calendar with nothing and rushed through it, stopped knowing what day it was, and let my desk go untidy for the first time in my working life. On unstructured time, why an empty week feels fast instead of long, and why it looks like a holiday from the outside.
Beautiful! I felt like it took me about 3 weeks to slow down, a mixture of what you are describing (turning off the rushing) and truly catching up on the life I wasn’t doing while I was in the midst of work. Now, 3 months in, I have rough to do’s, I am productive because I love to be while also saying hello to my garden, working where it suits me most, noticing butterflies, meeting up with friends on a whim! I’m excited to continue reading about your journey - wishing you luck and joy!!
Three weeks is oddly reassuring to hear. I’m twelve days in and the rushing is still fully switched on — I catch myself moving fast between things that have no deadline at all. The catching up on the life I wasn’t doing is the part I hadn’t thought about. What was the first thing that came back? 🫶🏻
The fact that you are noticing the rushing is the first step to recovery 🤣 The rhythm of my home came back. Since I was a ball of stress, the house was a ball of stress! I’ve now had time to organize, clear out, and clean in a way that moves to the beat of the family. And connections - both with current family and friends but also with old friends and colleagues, and new. I now have space to invite new to my life :)
This was such a good read. It’s amazing what our brains will do to fill the day and keep us busy. Wishing you all the time and space you need in the in between. And the patience to sit in it until the next thing unfolds on its own timeline 🤍
This is beautifully observed. The line that stayed with me is that the calendar was an instrument. So many of us leave the structure before we realize how deeply the structure still lives inside us. Freedom is not only having an empty week — it is learning how to stop measuring the week by the old evidence. Thank you for writing this from inside the transition, not after it. ❤️
I nearly held this one back. Writing from inside it means I can’t tell anyone how it turns out, and for a while that felt like a flaw rather than the point. The structure still living in me shows up in small places — a Tuesday that feels wasted, a calendar I fill for nobody. Where does yours turn up? 🫶🏻
It turns up in the way I still measure a day by how much I produced, even when no one is asking for the report anymore. The old structure shows up quietly — in my calendar, my guilt, my need to make rest feel earned. But day by day, I do feel myself improving with more intentional living. Freedom is not only an external change. It is an internal retraining too. ❤️
I love the idea of that coffee on the balcony that belongs to no one but you. This piece was pretty confronting, but in the best possible way. Thanks for sharing, and making me pause to think about how I would fill (or not fill) and empty week.
I really felt the part about wanting an answer ready before seeing people. I wonder why 'I don’t know yet' feels so strangely difficult to say, even when it’s the most truthful answer we have.
I love that you are capturing this. I’m 5 months in. I got into a groove, savoring and enjoying. I’m becoming a new person in my new life. Like the snap of a a finger I feel guilt or loss, but then o reframe and settle back again.
It will take time and you are not alone. I can’t wait to see how this all works out!
I’m stuck on the snap of the finger. The guilt showing up on an ordinary afternoon, unannounced, and leaving again just as fast. Five months in and it still does that — I’d half assumed it came with a deadline. What does it tend to attach itself to when it arrives? 🫶🏻
I related to this post so hard I thought you were in my head for a minute. I spent the entirety of my 18 year career writing a newsletter that went out every Tuesday morning at 8:30am. When I was laid off in April, I didn’t stop. I just switched to my own blog and continued writing my own content, publishing every Tuesday morning like clock work. Four months later and I’m still doing it. I realized that I never stopped working, I just stopped getting paid. I even asked myself recently if I could switch the delivery day, or even make it less rigid and release when I feel like it. Could I handle that? Who knows. It’s something I’m mulling over.
I kept the rhythm too. Ten days out and my week still arranges itself around publishing days — the paycheck stopped, the deadline didn’t. Which is either healthy or a very elegant hiding place, and I can’t tell yet which one it is. The Tuesday question feels bigger than Tuesday, though. Do you actually want to move it, or do you want to know that you could? 🫶🏻
I think it’s more about the pressure I put on myself. I was traveling last week but I still got my post out. My husband asked, can’t you just skip a week? And I thought to myself, honestly I don’t know. No boss. Just me deciding I don’t get a week off because there’s no one to cover for me. Weird.
I think it’s more about the pressure I put on myself. I was traveling last week but I still got my post out. My husband asked, can’t you just skip a week? And I thought to myself, honestly I don’t know. No boss. Just me deciding I don’t get a week off because there’s no one to cover for me. Weird.
I loved the bit about discovering this whole daytime world that was always happening while you were working. That’s been one of my favourite things too, going out during the week and seeing what people are doing at the times I used to be stuck in an office, behind a laptop or in a meeting. And also… who decided a holiday has to have an end date? Maybe you’re just allowed to enjoy this part while you work out what comes next.
I still catch myself feeling like a truant, like someone’s going to notice I’m out here at eleven on a Tuesday. The end-date thing gets me though — I think I gave every good stretch an end date so I’d know when to brace again. What would it even feel like to just… not? 🫶🏻
This was such a good read, Ilka. “I have spent my working life needing evidence that a day was spent well” really got me. I know that machinery 😅 Even when nobody else is setting the expectations, we can be remarkably efficient at recreating them ourselves. I hope you keep the second coffee, the ship at 9:40 and plenty of those three o’clock paddleboards 🫶🏻
I had a feeling that line would find the people who already knew the machinery. It’s oddly comforting that so many of us recognise it — like discovering the thing you thought was your private flaw is just standard issue. I’m keeping all three, though the ship’s the one I’d never have gone looking for. It just turned up. 🫶🏻
“Standard issue”, I love that. There’s something very comforting about discovering we’re not nearly as peculiar as we thought. And definitely keep the ship 🫶🏻
It really hit me when you said this looks like a vacation, but there is no end date to make it feel that way. It's as if our brain won't allow the permission to relax or enjoy because there is no framework. Why are we guilty??
I am going to ramble a bit here, so bear with me!!🤣🤣
In my garden the other day, the peas were growing a bit everywhere, leaning over, shooting straight up and blowing in the wind. I had to install some supports so that they could wrap their tendrils around to grow properly. And it hit me, that I kind of need those "supports" too in order to feel like I am not lost. A daily walk, an article to write, someone to connect with and something to look forward to.
In my past life, it felt like there was always something to do, but rarely things that I loved to do. Now, I have the time, but I don't want to fill my days just to fill them. I don't want to replicate the life I left. I don't completely know yet what my life will look like in six months, but I just need a few trellises to lean on while I grow and figure it out.
I love that you landed on trellises and not a fence. A few things to lean on while you grow, not a whole structure telling you which way to go. That’s the distinction I’m still feeling my way toward out here. Have you noticed which of your four: the walk, the writing, the person, the thing to look forward to ….comes back on its own when nobody’s asking? That’s the one I’d trust. 🫶🏻
Beautiful! I felt like it took me about 3 weeks to slow down, a mixture of what you are describing (turning off the rushing) and truly catching up on the life I wasn’t doing while I was in the midst of work. Now, 3 months in, I have rough to do’s, I am productive because I love to be while also saying hello to my garden, working where it suits me most, noticing butterflies, meeting up with friends on a whim! I’m excited to continue reading about your journey - wishing you luck and joy!!
Three weeks is oddly reassuring to hear. I’m twelve days in and the rushing is still fully switched on — I catch myself moving fast between things that have no deadline at all. The catching up on the life I wasn’t doing is the part I hadn’t thought about. What was the first thing that came back? 🫶🏻
The fact that you are noticing the rushing is the first step to recovery 🤣 The rhythm of my home came back. Since I was a ball of stress, the house was a ball of stress! I’ve now had time to organize, clear out, and clean in a way that moves to the beat of the family. And connections - both with current family and friends but also with old friends and colleagues, and new. I now have space to invite new to my life :)
This was such a good read. It’s amazing what our brains will do to fill the day and keep us busy. Wishing you all the time and space you need in the in between. And the patience to sit in it until the next thing unfolds on its own timeline 🤍
Thank you, Rebecca. It amazes me every day how my brain is trying to press myself into the old structure. It will take a while for sure…
Thank you for reading it so thoroughly 🫶🏻
This is beautifully observed. The line that stayed with me is that the calendar was an instrument. So many of us leave the structure before we realize how deeply the structure still lives inside us. Freedom is not only having an empty week — it is learning how to stop measuring the week by the old evidence. Thank you for writing this from inside the transition, not after it. ❤️
I nearly held this one back. Writing from inside it means I can’t tell anyone how it turns out, and for a while that felt like a flaw rather than the point. The structure still living in me shows up in small places — a Tuesday that feels wasted, a calendar I fill for nobody. Where does yours turn up? 🫶🏻
It turns up in the way I still measure a day by how much I produced, even when no one is asking for the report anymore. The old structure shows up quietly — in my calendar, my guilt, my need to make rest feel earned. But day by day, I do feel myself improving with more intentional living. Freedom is not only an external change. It is an internal retraining too. ❤️
I love the idea of that coffee on the balcony that belongs to no one but you. This piece was pretty confronting, but in the best possible way. Thanks for sharing, and making me pause to think about how I would fill (or not fill) and empty week.
You have a literary talent - your writing is tender, you capture the moment, you see the details, you find the invisible. Beautiful!
I really felt the part about wanting an answer ready before seeing people. I wonder why 'I don’t know yet' feels so strangely difficult to say, even when it’s the most truthful answer we have.
I love that you are capturing this. I’m 5 months in. I got into a groove, savoring and enjoying. I’m becoming a new person in my new life. Like the snap of a a finger I feel guilt or loss, but then o reframe and settle back again.
It will take time and you are not alone. I can’t wait to see how this all works out!
I’m stuck on the snap of the finger. The guilt showing up on an ordinary afternoon, unannounced, and leaving again just as fast. Five months in and it still does that — I’d half assumed it came with a deadline. What does it tend to attach itself to when it arrives? 🫶🏻
I related to this post so hard I thought you were in my head for a minute. I spent the entirety of my 18 year career writing a newsletter that went out every Tuesday morning at 8:30am. When I was laid off in April, I didn’t stop. I just switched to my own blog and continued writing my own content, publishing every Tuesday morning like clock work. Four months later and I’m still doing it. I realized that I never stopped working, I just stopped getting paid. I even asked myself recently if I could switch the delivery day, or even make it less rigid and release when I feel like it. Could I handle that? Who knows. It’s something I’m mulling over.
I kept the rhythm too. Ten days out and my week still arranges itself around publishing days — the paycheck stopped, the deadline didn’t. Which is either healthy or a very elegant hiding place, and I can’t tell yet which one it is. The Tuesday question feels bigger than Tuesday, though. Do you actually want to move it, or do you want to know that you could? 🫶🏻
I think it’s more about the pressure I put on myself. I was traveling last week but I still got my post out. My husband asked, can’t you just skip a week? And I thought to myself, honestly I don’t know. No boss. Just me deciding I don’t get a week off because there’s no one to cover for me. Weird.
I think it’s more about the pressure I put on myself. I was traveling last week but I still got my post out. My husband asked, can’t you just skip a week? And I thought to myself, honestly I don’t know. No boss. Just me deciding I don’t get a week off because there’s no one to cover for me. Weird.
I think I know how you feel…that responsible you. If this is what feels ok or better for you, why not?🫶🏻
I also had my aha moment when I discovered people reading books in the nearby park in the middle of the day. That was somehow shocking🤣
Good read!
All these new experiences, right? What journey are you having? 🫶🏻
Not so new anymore. I’ve been out of corporate life for a while, trying to navigate my various interests. I’m not exactly a niche person. :)
But honestly, I do miss the chaos, the speed, and the people around me a bit.
I loved the bit about discovering this whole daytime world that was always happening while you were working. That’s been one of my favourite things too, going out during the week and seeing what people are doing at the times I used to be stuck in an office, behind a laptop or in a meeting. And also… who decided a holiday has to have an end date? Maybe you’re just allowed to enjoy this part while you work out what comes next.
I still catch myself feeling like a truant, like someone’s going to notice I’m out here at eleven on a Tuesday. The end-date thing gets me though — I think I gave every good stretch an end date so I’d know when to brace again. What would it even feel like to just… not? 🫶🏻
Aww I hope you get to find out what it feels like to just not brace anymore. 😌💕
This was such a good read, Ilka. “I have spent my working life needing evidence that a day was spent well” really got me. I know that machinery 😅 Even when nobody else is setting the expectations, we can be remarkably efficient at recreating them ourselves. I hope you keep the second coffee, the ship at 9:40 and plenty of those three o’clock paddleboards 🫶🏻
I had a feeling that line would find the people who already knew the machinery. It’s oddly comforting that so many of us recognise it — like discovering the thing you thought was your private flaw is just standard issue. I’m keeping all three, though the ship’s the one I’d never have gone looking for. It just turned up. 🫶🏻
“Standard issue”, I love that. There’s something very comforting about discovering we’re not nearly as peculiar as we thought. And definitely keep the ship 🫶🏻
Great piece, Ilka.
It really hit me when you said this looks like a vacation, but there is no end date to make it feel that way. It's as if our brain won't allow the permission to relax or enjoy because there is no framework. Why are we guilty??
I am going to ramble a bit here, so bear with me!!🤣🤣
In my garden the other day, the peas were growing a bit everywhere, leaning over, shooting straight up and blowing in the wind. I had to install some supports so that they could wrap their tendrils around to grow properly. And it hit me, that I kind of need those "supports" too in order to feel like I am not lost. A daily walk, an article to write, someone to connect with and something to look forward to.
In my past life, it felt like there was always something to do, but rarely things that I loved to do. Now, I have the time, but I don't want to fill my days just to fill them. I don't want to replicate the life I left. I don't completely know yet what my life will look like in six months, but I just need a few trellises to lean on while I grow and figure it out.
Yes, no fence. That's the tricky part.
Still letting all kinds of things arrive and see where that leads me. The struggle is sitting in that uncertainty....
I love that you landed on trellises and not a fence. A few things to lean on while you grow, not a whole structure telling you which way to go. That’s the distinction I’m still feeling my way toward out here. Have you noticed which of your four: the walk, the writing, the person, the thing to look forward to ….comes back on its own when nobody’s asking? That’s the one I’d trust. 🫶🏻