When I studied abroad, small talk with other young travelers, adult residents, or hospitality staff consisted less of what they study or do for work. Despite our unacquaintedness, conversation topics reached far more engaging and personal levels — like differences in cultural colloquial terminology, family history, or values in relationships. By the end of a night out, I often couldn’t recall what most of these interesting people did for a living besides a few memorable exceptions. The disinterest shown in my go-to small talk icebreaker questions (hometown, school, occupation) suddenly felt like a reflection of something deeper.
I have come to view college majors and career trajectories as integral — even crucial — parts of someone’s identity. I was becoming more curious about what people did to get their paycheck rather than what they do to fill their lives with love and joy outside of their 9-5.
And this is absolutely not to say that all Americans in their 20s feel this way, or that it’s impossible to find a European who loves to discuss their career.
I am a student journalist and would love to get to talk to and write about people for a living. That is a part of who I am. But I don’t want it to become all of me. And as I settled into the pace of life in southern Spain, I started to realize that in my home life, I was prioritizing productivity over personal fulfillment. And I don’t think I’m alone.
In 2019, Her Campus at Ithaca College even wrote a Life article about the oxymoron productive procrastination.
So I asked myself: What does productivity even mean anymore? Am I producing a life of self-care and full of passion? Or am I producing a life of burn out and neglected hobbies?
Cutting Off My Addiction to Productivity Porn
A lot of the time, I think of productivity synonymously with survivability. In the face of uncertainty brought on by emerging adulthood, I chase some sense of accomplishment whenever possible — no matter how small — in order to feel in control of manageable stress. I think this mantra partly stems from the productivity porn that consumes mine, and likely others’, social media feeds. I compare how satisfied I am with my control level with the control others have over their own lives (or how they present themselves as having such on social media).
As I’ve grown up to develop professional aspirations and personal goals, free time has turned into romanticizing mindless tasks — anything from doing laundry to organizing my Outlook inbox to doom scrolling on LinkedIn. By filling every moment with something perceived as meaningful just to feel stable
No amount of productivity can protect me from the world of student debt, an unstable economy, and looming layoff crises particularly in the communications field. Professional values like gaining field experience through internships, having on-campus involvement, and networking started to seem more important at age 20 than some personal values — like maintaining a supportive social circle, finding engaging hobbies, checking in with friends and family, and even checking in with myself.
So I came to realize that there is a difference between keeping up with what needs to be done, keeping up academically and professionally, and keeping up mentally.
I’m not saying that doing household chores and making strides towards your future aren’t important. I’m saying quite the opposite.
Taking time for myself could allow for more of a chance to succeed outside of “productivity porn” tasks.
I Moved Across the World to Understand My Own
The time I spent abroad awakened my sense of self-care and the need for enriching passions that lived independently from anything relating to what needs to be done. New pastimes that didn’t contribute to my professional development — even writing couldn’t apply in my case. I need plain old hobbies. Because if I’m not allowing my mind and body time to keep up with everything that has to be done, how can I expect myself to be able to keep up at all?
Something discussed in my Cultural Realities course and orientation sessions was the idea of culture shock: when changes in cultural values, daily routines, language, or social norms lead to feelings of disorientation, confusion, and anxiety. The dichotomy between work-centered and life-centered values became abundantly clear to me within days of people-watching across Spain and traveling across Europe.
This cultural contrast even showed itself in the classroom, as my professor urged us to talk more about our cultural observations and weekend travel plans than about our next quiz. At a period in my life where I was seeing new countries every weekend, constantly talking to new people I would likely never see again, and learning more about things like Gothic Mudejar architecture than I ever have in all my years of school, I was somehow still preoccupied by the smallest routine variables that had changed since moving to Spain.
On my first grocery store trip, it took me 30 minutes to figure out which of the nearly 50 different blue liquids that resided in the small yet intimidating aisle was dish soap versus laundry detergent, because the word detergente is used for both types of cleaning supplies. My initial fear of not sounding authentic when speaking in Spanish was greater than my need for dish soap at the time, so I didn’t ask for help. But eventually I had to speak up and find my voice in order to feel more confident blending in.
To combat said culture shock, I did as others did. Besides the more basic immersion steps like eating a later dinner and dressing up for class, I embraced the art of siesta time (the midafternoon period following lunch) where Spanish culture encourages finding pleasure in the act of “doing nothing”, as siesta translates to nap. Instead of leaning towards the literal interpretation of this tradition — which some still do — I took time for myself with activities or hobbies that didn’t contribute to daily tasks or obligations. I went for walks around my local parks and found beauty in getting lost. It sounds dramatic, but literally turning off your GPS and aimlessly wandering can be freeing. I took a book to a cafe and left behind my computer and realized I enjoyed reading when I wasn’t easily distracted.
And now that I’ve settled back into the glorious American lifestyle (can you sense my sarcasm?) I am trying to implement this new value system into the day-to-day, whether it be at home or on campus. I’m starting to redevelop a type of passion for reading that I haven’t felt since I was younger. I am going on more walks with my dog. As a student athlete who typically works out in the gym or with at-home machines, I am trying workout classes with one of my friends. I am identifying or rediscovering hobbies that bring me joy unattached to the perception of productivity. And in turn, I may have found what real productivity requires: creating space for meaningful work by finding meaning outside of it.