Careless or Care·Less?

Our culture is productivity obsessed and often the idea of slowing down and doing less can feel inaccessible or even irresponsible. Simultaneously, experts across all fields advise us that slowing down is good for our health and leads to a deeper sense of happiness and fulfillment. 

British pediatrician and psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott coined the term “good enough mother” in his 1953 book Playing and Reality. His theory posits that a “good enough” caregiver provides a sufficiently nurturing environment for a child’s psychological development, without being perfect. Within the “good enough mother” framework, the caregiver uses attunement to strike a balance between meeting the child’s needs for physical and emotional safety while also allowing for safe testing of boundaries and slight frustration for the child. 

Many of us in the therapeutic space work on “re-parenting” with our clients - essentially helping clients develop the ability to offer themselves the nurturing care and understanding that they needed as children. Can part of this kindness and self-compassion focus on allowing ourselves to be “good enough” in our own endeavors? Can we, using mindful reflection, make choices about where we want to invest our time and energy and in doing so slow down and do less? Can we still care but care just a little less? 

Doing less doesn’t mean that we are lazy. Or that we lack ambition. It means that we are able to set realistic expectations for ourselves (and others) and move forward with intention, acknowledging that relaxation is essential for our overall wellness. Winnicott's work highlights the importance of a nurturing environment for a child's development, which includes periods of calm and rest. By being our own good enough caregivers and allowing ourselves the same access to rest, we create a nurturing environment for our own growth and happiness.

Winnicott also emphasizes the importance of presence and attunement. A good enough caregiver is attuned to the child’s needs, providing comfort and security. By doing less and focusing on the present moment we can also become more attuned to our own needs. This presence fosters deeper connections with loved ones and a greater sense of fulfillment.

When our busyness is persistent, our minds are cluttered. We approach tasks on autopilot without the mental space necessary to generate new ideas or understand different perspectives. Rest allows the mind to wander and engage in reflection, which can increase creativity and assist in problem-solving. Winnicott believed that play and creativity were vital for a child’s healthy development. As adults, we also benefit from the freedom and space to play, explore, and create.

Winnicott's idea of the "good enough mother" reinforces what we already know - that perfection is antithetical to our well-being. Rest is essential for our mental and emotional health, fostering creativity and deeper connections. Can we take stock and not only do a little less but care a little less about doing it all to enhance balance and create a nurturing environment for our own growth? 

Beginning Again…Again.

Recently, I found myself on the treadmill at the gym (my least favorite place to run), negotiating with myself to finish my workout. Just a little bit longer... I wasn’t sure I would be able to; my chest was tight, my breathing was labored, and I was concerned about possible repercussions later in the day. Almost there, or should I just stop now? Maybe 30 seconds to go, then maybe 20... a few more... done! I reduced the speed to a crawl and glanced at the screen: distance, 1 mile; time, 13 minutes. I was so happy I could cry. I did it—I did something anyway. It was the longest 13 minutes of my life, and I barely got through it, but it was finished.

I’d like to say this was the beginning of my running story and that from here I went on to do great things, but this was last week. Last fall, I ran the NYC Marathon, my first, and now, four months later, I can barely run a mile. But this isn’t actually about overcoming odds; this isn’t even about running. This is about the inevitability of being at the beginning of something. In my case with running, it’s about being at the beginning yet again as part of a long road of navigating health issues that impact my abilities and often my motivation.

If I can work up to marathon training for years and still end up in a poorly equipped gym barely completing 1 mile just months later, how can I rely on my accomplishments? How can I rely on myself? Can I trust my successes will mean something after I complete them, or am I just on this hamster wheel of striving towards something only to be right back where I started each time?

I think the answer is yes to all of the above, actually. Yes, I can trust my accomplishments, and yes, I will be back at the beginning time and time again. Every time I decide to learn a new skill or reach for a goal to stretch myself and grow, I am back in this uncomfortable place of self-doubt—“Will I be able to do it?”—and self-criticism—“What’s the point? I am never going to be great at this anyway?”—which, if left unchecked, inevitably leads to demotivation and avoidance.

Let me be clear: this is not a story about great athletic achievement. I ran almost a five-hour marathon back in November, and I don’t imagine there is going to be a big overcoming of physical limitations that turns me into a 22-year-old athlete in my next one if I ever run another one. No, I am a 43-year-old busy New York woman who runs largely for her mental health, and that’s okay. In fact, that’s exactly enough of a reason to pursue a goal—because it makes you feel good doing it, or maybe with running it feels good having done it. This brings me to the point of this: work towards the things that matter to you but do them with a sense of purpose and personal satisfaction, rather than focusing solely on the end result.

Life is filled with cycles of beginnings and endings, and it's important to recognize that each attempt, each effort, is valuable in its own right. Achievements are not always measured by grand milestones but by the simple act of trying, learning, and growing. By allowing ourselves the grace to start over and the freedom to pursue what brings us joy, we can find fulfillment in the process itself. So, whether you're starting a new job, PRing your marathon, or like me running that first slow painful mile, the true success lies in the journey, the effort, and the commitment to going back again and again.