A few months ago,
I noticed
a young man
sitting beside me
on the train.
He was typing intensely
on his laptop.
Fast.
Focused.
Serious.
I quietly thought,
He must be working hard
during the short time
between places.
But then,
I accidentally caught
a glimpse of the screen.
He wasn’t working.
He seemed to be
chatting online.
And somehow,
that scene stayed with me.
Because honestly—
I used to move like that too.
I had thought
productivity meant
holding myself tightly together.
If there was a small gap
between plans,
I immediately tried
to use it well.
I carried my laptop everywhere.
Writing.
Editing.
Organizing.
Trying to use
every small moment well.
Sometimes,
I carried the laptop around all day
without even opening it once.
I was carrying
the possibility of work
more than the work itself.
At the time,
I thought
I was being efficient.
But looking back,
I was also afraid of
leaving the space
empty.
Walking Before Working
These days,
something feels different.
Not because I suddenly became
less active.
Actually,
I still do many things.
I still place online orders.
Organize ideas.
Write blog posts.
Handle small tasks.
But now,
I don’t immediately begin
doing those things.
First,
I move a little.
Not in a structured way.
Not as a productivity routine.
Sometimes,
I walk slowly for a moment.
Outside,
I might look at the sky,
the trees,
or even the patterns
on the sidewalk.
At home,
I might walk quietly
through the living room
or the veranda.
Sometimes,
I pause beside
a plant near the window
for a few seconds.
The window is slightly open.
The air moves.
And somehow,
my mind begins to feel
less frozen too.
Then naturally,
thoughts begin to connect.
A message.
An idea.
A conversation.
An online order.
A sentence for the next post.
And strangely,
everything feels easier that way.
Because I’m no longer
holding onto the task
too tightly.
The space stays open.
And somehow,
even small decisions
begin to feel lighter too.
Mid-point
Sometimes,
productivity becomes exhausting
when the body stays frozen
while the mind keeps working.
Movement changes
the feeling of the task itself.
A Different Kind of Productivity
In the past,
I often tried
to create perfect productivity.
A perfect routine.
A perfect workspace.
A perfect block of focus.
And honestly,
sometimes that worked.
I spent years
writing newspaper articles,
working under deadlines,
and sitting for hours
while writing my master’s thesis.
So I know
that kind of pressure-based focus
very well.
Even now,
when my husband is in his room
writing articles before a deadline,
I can still feel
that same energy.
The pressure.
The tightness.
The need to finish.
But these days,
my own rhythm
feels very different.
Some mornings,
I go to a café.
Other mornings,
I stay home
and slowly drink milk tea.
Some afternoons,
I write.
Other days,
I cook,
walk,
or move my body instead.
The rhythm changes.
And somehow,
that looseness
keeps me from burning out.
Because I’m no longer
trying to force
the same energy
every single day.
I’m listening more closely
to the condition
of the moment.
Small Movements, Small Resets
These days,
even simple things
feel different.
Walking while ordering something online.
Talking while moving.
Thinking while looking at trees.
Feeling sunlight
between small tasks.
Tiny shifts.
Tiny resets.
And somehow,
the day feels fuller now.
Not packed.
Not rushed.
Just quietly full.
A month ago,
I think I was still trying
to hold onto the rhythm
a little too tightly.
Trying to make it work.
Trying to keep the flow going.
But now,
it feels much more natural.
More open.
More flexible.
I no longer feel
like I have to force productivity.
It simply begins to flow
through the rhythm
of daily life.
And maybe that’s why
everything feels lighter now.
Less exhausting.
Less heavy.
And strangely—
much more alive.
