Snow Day Reflections
As I sit here watching snowflakes fall and accumulate—unusual for North Carolina—curled up on the couch with my dog, reading a book; I am reminded of something we’ve lost in the modern world.
The sabbath.
Not necessarily in the religious sense, but in the way Wayne Muller describes in his book Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives—as a sacred pause. A moment to rest, renew, and simply be.
Those moments are rare now. And for many of us, they feel almost impossible.
The Modern Time Trap
Modern life is characterized by what researchers call “time poverty”—a pervasive sense that we never have enough time. Despite all the technological advancements designed to make us more efficient, we’re more stressed, more burned out, and more disconnected than ever.
Here’s why:
The “Always-On” Culture
Smartphones and instant messaging have created an environment of 24/7 accessibility. We’re expected to respond immediately, constantly, endlessly. The “paradox of efficiency” means that the faster our tools get, the faster we’re expected to move. There’s no relief—just higher pressure.
The Glorification of Busyness
Our culture equates being busy with being productive, important, or successful. There’s a social pressure to maximize every minute, to avoid “wasting time,” and to fear missing out. Rest is seen as laziness. Stillness feels like failure.
The Blurring of Work and Life
Remote work was supposed to give us flexibility. Instead, for many, it meant work spilled into every corner of personal time. There’s no commute to create separation. No office door to close. Work is always just a notification away.
The Overload of Everything
Information. Choices. Responsibilities. Social media. News cycles. Entertainment. Parenting expectations. The sheer volume fragments our attention and creates a constant hum of anxiety—like we’re always supposed to be doing more, knowing more, staying more current.
The Math Doesn’t Add Up
Let’s talk about the 8-8-8 method for a moment. You’ve probably heard of it: 8 hours of work, 8 hours of sleep, 8 hours of personal time. Sounds balanced, right?
Except it’s a fantasy for most people.
Because those “8 hours of work” don’t include:
- A commute (which can be 1–3 hours each way for some)
- The cost trade-offs (tolls to speed up the drive, parking fees, or the limitations of public transit schedules)
- The inability to leave early for emergencies without paying for an Uber or losing flexibility
The real math looks more like this:
- 10–12 hours for work (including commute and prep)
- 8 hours for sleep (if you’re lucky)
- 4–6 hours left to eat, clean, fold clothes, spend time with kids, prep for the next day, grocery shop… oh, and both kids have basketball games in two different places tonight.
Anyone else already exhausted or anxious just reading that?
The Cost of Time Poverty
This isn’t just inconvenient. It’s damaging.
Research shows that high stress and lack of time are directly linked to:
- Burnout and lower job satisfaction
- Reduced cognitive functioning and decision fatigue
- Physical and mental health decline
- Diminished quality of leisure—even when we have “free time,” it’s rushed, distracted, performative
We’re not truly resting. We’re scrolling. We’re managing. We’re staying “current.” But we’re not present.
And over time, that hollows us out.
When Corporations Forget We’re Human
I think companies forget this sometimes.
Corporations are always going to want more for less. That’s the nature of business. But there comes a point where the risk outweighs the rewards.
People start missing things—not because they’re not doing their jobs, but because they’ve been required to do the job of 2–3 people due to layoffs. They’re overwhelmed. And when they’re a good employee and a good parent, they sacrifice sleep just to do more for the company.
It’s not a sustainable trend.
I know, I know—leaders say AI will take care of it and replace all the workers. But people are still going to be needed. It’s not a light switch that will magically automate the entire world. And even if it were, that doesn’t solve the human need for rest, connection, and meaning.
What We Can Do: Reclaiming Sabbath Moments
So what can we do in the face of all this?
1. Build in time when it shows up.
Have a snow day? Focus on something fun first. Then do something you need to do. Don’t let guilt rob you of the gift.
2. Budget your time like you budget your money.
Just like we split our budget into Required items, Savings, and Fun—we have to think of our hours in the day, week, and month as our budget.
There is only so much to spend.
And let’s face it: most of us have time poverty. We may be successful, but we’re poor in time for other things. And that affects happiness and overall well-being.
3. Take your time off.
I’m a huge supporter of actually using your PTO. Not saving it. Not hoarding it. Using it. Rest is not a luxury. It’s a requirement.
4. Be present in the moments you’re in.
If you’re at your kid’s basketball game, put your phone on Do Not Disturb (you have a breakthrough list for emergencies). Focus on the game. Everything else can wait.
This allows you to capture certain moments by being in that moment—creating the random smiles and memories that make it easier to keep going later.
5. Gamify your focus.
Treat your attention like a resource. Protect it. Block time for deep work, for rest, for presence. Use timeboxing. Set digital boundaries. Turn off notifications.
You don’t have to be accessible 24/7 to be valuable.
6. Give yourself grace.
Even if you align things to your values and then to your priorities, sometimes you still need to be “selfish” and plan in that sabbath time.
Otherwise, you will not be able to deliver for yourself—let alone for others.
Putting yourself first is not weakness. It’s showing you know what matters.
A Final Thought
Wayne Muller writes:
“In the relentless busyness of modern life, we have lost the rhythm between work and rest… Rest is not something we do when we finish. It is not a reward for completing our tasks. Rest is a gift we are given simply because we are alive.”
We’ve forgotten that.
We’ve made rest conditional. We’ve turned it into something we “earn” instead of something we need.
But rest is not a reward. Rest is part of being human.
So as you move through this week, this month, this season—I invite you to ask yourself:
Where can I reclaim a sabbath moment?
What would it look like to give myself permission to rest—not because I’ve earned it, but because I’m alive and I matter?
Am I living with time poverty by choice, or have I simply forgotten there’s another way?
You don’t have to have all the answers. But if you can find even five minutes today to pause, breathe, and be—that’s where the healing begins.
Authentic Evolution Journey 