Issue #3: On productivity guilt (and calling your grandma back)
'I put off everything that won't bring me closer to my dreams, as if the things I'm putting off are not the dream themselves'
Earlier this autumn, I went to see Rupi Kaur at the Barbican Centre, where she was performing as part of her world tour. For anyone who’s ever been to a poetry ‘SLAM’ night (which can feel like a subdued rap performance in a tiny venue, where everyone ‘snaps’ their approval by clicking their fingers during rather than clapping), this was not it. This was a rock concert, poetry edition.
She came out, towering and goddess-like* in heels and a custom-made tulle robe worn open over a crop top and miniskirt beneath, like a cross between a sari and the see-through ‘coat’ Cher Horowitz in Clueless wears over her Calvin Klein dress when Christian took her out on a date - but bubble gum pink. Poetry was delivered to backing music, with visuals swirling about on a projector screen behind her. But the spectacle was created by her performance, too. Rupi delivered her between-poems patter with the self-ironicising humour of fellow Canadian comedian Katherine Ryan, but then delivered the poetry itself with the passion of Beyonce.
To my knowledge, in the poetry world it was a truly unprecedented format (and that’s the first time I’ve used the word ‘unprecedented’ in a positive context in, oh, we all know how long).
I sometimes feel Rupi is a marketing guru on par with Taylor Swift, the way she’s single handedly made poetry more accessible to Gen Z and millennials through the likes of Instagram and now her physical presence in their home cities.
But what I want to talk about isn’t Rupi’s outfit, performance or marketing prowess, but a specific poem of hers: ‘Productivity Anxiety’, from her 2020 anthology, Home Body. Here’s the bit that stuck with me:
i put off everything that
won’t bring me closer to my dreams
as if the things i’m putting off
are not the dream themselves
In this poem, Rupi – one of the world’s most successful contemporary poets, who has a career widely recognised as a dream in and of itself, and has clearly been relentlessly ambitious all her adult life – reminds us that the dream is not the thing we’re pursuing, but the thing we’re putting off in order to pursue it. The phone call from our mother we’re ignoring. Eating a meal in a civilised way. I’ll add to that: the Whatsapp from my best friend asking how my week was. The newsletter I’m getting to write right now.
I was recently on the podcast of Youtuber Ali Abdaal, who has something crazy like 3.5 million followers on his channel and is known globally for his viral videos on productivity. And he said a similar thing, referencing a moment days before where he had only 15 minutes to record a video that he needed to schedule, but his grandma called. He chose talking to his grandma: ‘I asked myself, “What decision would I endorse more on my deathbed?”’
Throughout my career, one of my favourite ‘constants’ has been getting to speak to people who have a sky-high level of success. They offer a privileged vantage point. Because when they share what they’ve done to protect their personal life, amid their achievements, it becomes a unique sort of permission slip. A reminder of what matters. That you don’t have to make a Faustian bargain to reach an aspirational level of success, or following, one which involves trading in the occasional phone calls with a loved one in favour of a Greater Good.
The conversation with your grandma, or your mum, if you’re lucky enough to have either, is the dream, as Rupi says. Because the thing with productivity and the imagined success that follows, I suspect, is that no matter what rung of the ladder you climb, it gets quickly metabolised. You will always be looking for bigger and better, and that’s the nature of ambition and success. Wonderful, at times. But also bottomless.
It’s the opposite with loving relationships (and by this I mean familial and platonic as much as I do romantic), which will nurture you more and more, the more you tend to them. You will feel grounded, and full, and whole – like there’s nowhere you’d rather be.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m off to call my mum.
* I later learnt that Rupi Kaur is exactly the same height as me, a not-particularly-towering 5’2”, which made the illusion even more spectacular.
Buy cheap, buy twice – they say, which is the wisdom I should have recalled ahead of getting my nails done this week. ‘Come to Moscow Beauty Bar,’ said my local Lisbonite friend Lauren – here’s their Instagram page for anyone who happens to be visiting and in need of a mani-pedi – ‘It’s a little expensive for Lisbon but they take so much time and care’. Anyway, I went to a cheaper (and faster) place, only to be left with the worst manicure of my life and about 1mm of nail thickness left. Sigh. Which was what left me crawling back to Lauren’s nail bar of choice. I even invested in nail art to make the two-manicures-in-a-week thing less annoying. This ‘blue dot’ manicure kind of reminds me of the ‘earth as seen from a great, great distance’ tattoo Phoebe gets in Friends, but I bloody love it.
You will see from my pasty British hand that the weather in Lisbon has been, well, rather British as of late. I have, however, found out that all the locals are covertly fake tanning to keep up their glowing European aesthetic during this inclement weather. So when in Rome… My go-to favourites are Tan-Luxe drops in my face moisturiser (these make you 20% more attractive overnight, I swear) and some Nivea Cocoa DermaSpa body lotion I picked up at the supermarket.
I haven’t spent the whole past week preening, however. I also visited the MAAT (Museum of Art, Architecture and Technology) Museum with my flatmate. Although much of the exhibition there went rather over my non-architect head, I did enjoy a playful installation from Swiss-born artist Adriana Pogranó, titled ‘Little Brats’, which is supposed to depict portrait subjects who have escaped from the painting (note the paint-spot ‘footprints’ on the floor). I’ve also been enjoying putting together this newsletter from the uplifting, primary-coloured interior of my workspace Second Home (which has branches in London and Los Angeles), while tuning into the daily playlists from the
newsletter, designed to help you focus while working while delighting your eardrums.
Oh, and a life update from me! I’ve extended another month in Lisbon, returning mid-December. From next week, I’ll be renting a gorgeous flat in the centre with a terrace overlooking the city. I’ll really miss living with Tom, but I am excited see what Lisbon-based alonement looks like before my return to London. If anyone has any recommendations (restaurants, shops etc I should check out during my last month), do get in touch in the comments. I also have my first visitor from London this weekend – my school friend, Emma – and I’ve planned for us to go for tacos; followed by rooftop cocktails; then ‘out-out’ to a fun bar which plays 80s synthpop & new wave. I’ll be cracking on the playlist below to get us in the mood…
Coming up… 🥁
As chosen by you in last week’s poll, the upcoming theme for The Shoulds will be:
‘I should read more’
So… if this is one of your Shoulds, or you have that one friend who always saying ‘I should read’ this and that, then subscribe or share as applicable. Subscribers will receive everything straight to their inboxes, including a mid-week community discussion; a list of hand-picked links & resources (selected because they’re helpful and inspiring, rather than shame-y – we have a ‘shame-free’ policy on The Shoulds!); and the regular Sunday newsletter.
This week, I’m asking for some feedback! As you know, The Shoulds is a subscriber-funded publication, which means I can put your reading pleasure/experience first and foremost. With that in mind, I’ve been having a think about how frequently I send out these newsletters. Are you happy with the current frequency (three a week) or would you like more/less?
Do let me know what you think, and I’ll make a judgement call accordingly. Any other feedback, either email me directly (just respond to this email!) orrr let me know in the comments section below.
Happy Sunday,
Francesca