1-10 Simplify
The greatest journey may begin with a single step, but before you put your shoes on, you need to know where you're headed. If you're too busy, it can be hard to choose that path--or to figure out that you've already set yourself on the wrong road. Cut back. You'll be amazed at what you learn.
1. Set your priorities
A new year, a clean slate, and so many ways to build a better life. But for people riddled with imperfections--which is to say people in general--sometimes that's exactly the problem. Should you spend more time snuggling with your sweetie or sweeping out the junk in the basement? Pitching in at the local food bank or organizing your digital photographs? Consolidating your credit card debt or eating more lycopene? The list of things we could do to improve our lives is so darned long that we often end up doing nothing at all.
Call it a to-do list; call it a battle plan if that makes you feel better. Somehow or other, you have to figure out where to start. "Almost all of my work involves setting priorities," says executive coach Linda Finkle of Potomac, Md. "The vast masses of us are trying to do more things in less time, and there's this belief that we can create a 26-hour day somehow." Finkle has developed many strategies for increasing efficiency--whether at home or in the workplace. "But there really are only 24 hours in the day," she says, "and sooner or later you have to realize that you can't do everything."
Sometimes separating the important stuff from the expendable is straightforward. But where do you go once you're ready to move beyond deciding whether you get that snazzy new leather jacket or buy lunch for the kids? Finkle suggests the good old-fashioned to-do list--with a twist. "We spend a lot of time on things that are important but not urgent," she says, "so we end up running out of time to do everything we want." She recommends starting each morning with a list of the day's tasks--from watching a child's softball game to preparing for a meeting at work--and then ranking them according to what can wait and what can't. "Mark them A, B, or C," she says, "and then tear up the B's and C's. If you get the all the A's done, you'll feel great and have a successful day."
Do or don't. In a way, Finkle is actually encouraging procrastination: Why waste time today on things that really can be put off until tomorrow? "The B's and C's either move up the list as they become more urgent, or they drop off" as conditions--or priorities--change, she says. "Your life might be 80 percent work one week, because you've got a big project that is a priority. And it might be all family time after that," she says. "What most of us do is not make the choice. We just plug along, and then we get frustrated when we run out of time."
When it comes to running out of time, author Carl Honore has an unusual suggestion: Don't speed up, he says; slow down. His recent book In Praise of Slowness chronicles the backlash against a society stuck in what he calls "roadrunner mode." "There's a cultural drive toward . . . squeezing more into every day," he says. "It's a badge of honor to be busy." Once a globe-trotting journalist, Honore had an "airport epiphany" 10 years ago. He'd been struggling with bedtime stories for his son--speed-reading the tales and even skipping over lines to buy a few more moments for work. "I was waiting for a flight, and I saw an article about the 'One-Minute Bedtime Story,'" he says. "My first reaction was 'Hallelujah!'," he recalls, but that ecstasy was soon followed by remorse. "Whoa, I thought, have I really come to where I'd put my son away with a sound bite?"
He took the "whoa" literally, slowing down and finding that life was richer. "When you do things more slowly, you're able to enjoy them more and do them better," Honore says. And slower, of course, means fewer. So how do you decide what to jettison? Honore recommends some combination of what will make you happy, what won't get you fired, and what will make for fond memories. "Coming up with a list of what's important to you really shouldn't be that hard," says Honore. If it is? Maybe you really need to slow down. -Thomas Hayden
2. Learn to meditate
Ooh--I love that black sweater I saw online yesterday. I wonder how it would look with my new jeans. Do we need paper towels? I think I may have used the last roll this morning. Yes, I'm sure I did. What if I can't max out my Roth IRA this year? Will I have to work until I'm 80? Should I just suck it up and get a second job now? I'd make a great closet organizer. Or maybe there's another three-pack of Bounty in the back of the pantry ...
Hoping to attain the inner peace of Buddhist monks and yogis worldwide, I sit cross-legged on my living room floor, take a deep breath, and try to clear my mind. I am aiming for a higher, more serene state of being--but all I get is a lousy sweater, paper towels, and money woes. Sadly, it takes a mere three minutes before I stand up and storm off, completely frustrated and, if possible, more wound up than when I began--all because I couldn't do something as seemingly simple as meditate.
Om and on. Why would a somewhat hyperactive skeptic even try? To be honest, it's hard to find a reason not to. Over the past several decades, it has become increasingly clear that meditation is a path not only to spiritual enlightenment but also to better health. A slew of recent studies have shown that a regular practice can offset many of the effects of stress, including heart disease, high blood pressure, anxiety, depression, insomnia, and infertility. In addition, it has been proved to boost the immune system and to help treat symptoms and pain associated with chronic illnesses such as cancer, fibromyalgia, and psoriasis. "Meditation allows people to deal with a wide range of incoming hits to the brain and psyche in a more manageable way," says Barrie Cassileth, chief of the Integrative Medicine Service at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York, one of a growing number of hospitals that offer the therapy, which has no side effects and, once learned, doesn't cost a penny.
There are countless forms of the ancient mind-body practice, also known as mindfulness, which is thousands of years old. For example, in transcendental meditation, or TM, you rest quietly with your eyes closed and repeat a mantra--a single word or phrase with some particular meaning, like peace , om, or shalom --for 20 minutes at a time, while the breath method involves focusing on inhaling and exhaling deeply through the nose. In body-awareness meditation, you concentrate on breathing as you direct attention to each part of your frame, from the toes on up to the hair. A movement practice combines breath and easy, flowing motions, like swaying or dancing. You can meditate for five minutes or 50, while sitting still or walking, with your eyes open or shut.
Meditation is just one of several techniques that elicit similar health benefits, says Herbert Benson, an associate professor at Harvard Medical School and president of the Mind/Body Medical Institute in Chestnut Hill, Mass. Whether it's yoga, tai chi, qi gong, or even repetitive prayer, the basic science is the same: Stress brings forth a "fight or flight" reaction in the body, releasing epinephrine and norepinephrine into the bloodstream; these hormones increase blood pressure, heart rate, and muscle tension and can lead to the aforementioned medical problems.
"There are no drugs or surgeries which can counteract the harmful effects of stress, but fortunately we have within ourselves an opposite reaction--'the relaxation response,' " says Benson, who coined the term back in 1975 and has been studying the subject ever since. Though the exact brain mechanisms involved are still being researched, it is clear that with daily practice over time, the body builds resistance to stress, and related symptoms diminish.
Needless to say, I am not alone in my quest for inner peace. According to a survey on complementary and alternative medicine from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 8 percent of adults in the United States now practice meditation, which comes in many different forms and styles, and an additional 12 percent utilize deep breathing exercises; 5 percent are committed to yoga. For individuals like Linda Felner, the results can be life altering. After the 62-year-old was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2002, she had surgery and chemotherapy and went into remission, but she still suffered from debilitating nerve pain in her arms and legs as well as exhaustion and depression. Felner, who lives in the New York area, sought out Sloan-Kettering's Integrative Medicine Service--and meditation, qi gong, and acupuncture. "I see meditation as a tool that's there for me to draw upon whenever I want or need to," she adds, noting that she's never felt better, physically or mentally.
Guru guidance. Though meditation can be an inexpensive and effective way to counter such stresses, it can be challenging to get started--and to stick with it. After my initial debacle, I contact Lorin Roche, author of Meditation Made Easy, who has been teaching the practice in Los Angeles for more than 30 years. The first advice he offers is to forget about monklike focus and embrace my "monkey mind" --an apt term if ever there was one. "Everyone thinks they are bad at meditation--that they're not disciplined enough, that they can't make their mind blank--but it is an innate human skill," he promises. Through a series of sessions via speakerphone and his Meditation 24/7 CD, Roche introduces me to the "fill your cup" exercise, which has me reflecting over my coffee every morning for five minutes, savoring each sip and concentrating on "drinking in" the qualities I'll need to get through the day, like strength or endurance. I pause again in the late afternoon to lie down, rest my eyes, and concentrate on slowly inhaling and exhaling for 10 to 15 minutes, envisioning a favorite spot overlooking the beach; when the dread of what to cook for dinner hits me, I allow myself to briefly mull over chicken kabobs versus stuffed peppers and then try to return to the image of blue surf, even if it takes a while.
Nearly two months later, I'm still at it. The skeptic in me isn't sure these daily breaks are paying off, but on a recent afternoon I had a breakthrough of sorts: My body melted into the couch, my lids grew heavy, and I felt half asleep but perfectly conscious of my breath, which echoed through my brain, my chest, my limbs; for the first time ever, perhaps, I thought of absolutely nothing at all. I don't know how long it lasted--maybe two minutes, maybe 10--but I do know I want more. -Carolyn Kleiner Butler
3-7. Beating clutter
3. Clear your closets. If you haven't worn a piece of clothing in two years, it's time to toss it or donate it. Narrow down the real treasures, and save them in boxes out of the way.
4. Donate your phone. A number of nonprofits recycle old cellphones for good causes. Check out the Wireless Foundation or the Charitable Recycling Program.
5. Save your snapshots. Get your old photographs out of those shoeboxes and into an album or frames; they'll last a lot longer, and you can actually enjoy them.
6. Store by season. Organize your closets more rationally: Holiday lights go with the sleds and parkas; the beach umbrella goes with the snorkeling gear.
7. Bag it. Hanging shoe bags can hold more than footwear. Put them on the back of a door to store cleaning supplies, bath stuff, or anything you need in easy reach.
8. Move to Bismarck
To get from his home in Mandan, N.D., to the offices of the Bismarck Tribune, Managing Editor Ken Rogers must squeeze into eastbound traffic on I-94, cross the Grant Marsh Bridge over the Missouri River and into Bismarck, and then make his way to the far side of this northern state capital. "The commute," Rogers grumbles, "is brutal. I have to set aside 15 minutes." Which includes a stop for coffee. And another to pick up mail.
Aggravation comes in many forms. But thinking about Rogers's morning cakewalk (completed in about half the national average commuting time), while stuck in traffic and suffering the consequences of one coffee too many and one pit stop too few, surely ranks near the top of the list. Which is exactly where Bismarck's 57,000 residents wound up in a 2004 listing of America's least stressful small cities.
Yes, the winters are cold, the New York Philharmonic never visits, and it's more than 1,000 miles to the nearest coast. But North Dakota boasts shorter commutes, less violent crime, and better high school graduation rates than any other state in the union. Add in the capital's stable economy and low unemployment, affordable housing, sunny skies, and year-round recreation, and you've got a near-perfect recipe for low-stress living. A move to Bismarck, in other words, might just deserve a second look.
Rogers and two other men sat around a table at a coffee shop here recently discussing why. Steve Neu, Bismarck's parks and rec director, loves the easy access to open spaces. The Missouri cuts a sinuous path through the plains here, relieving the area from topographical monotony and providing prime hunting and fishing grounds. Tracy Potter moved to Bismarck from Grand Forks, N.D., and joked that he was going into exile. "But the natural beauty here captures you," he says. Plus, "there's a lot of civility in local politics, and it's a great place to raise kids." "It's not a perfect place," Rogers adds. "But it is a good place, where you can choose how you want to live your life."
Lessons. In many smaller centers, colleges become an escape route for local kids, providing the credentials needed to move away. But at Bismarck's institutions of higher education--Bismarck State College, the United Tribes Technical College, and the University of Mary--the focus is on giving students the skills they need to make a life here. Perched on a high bluff overlooking the Missouri River Valley, the University of Mary was practically willed into being by Benedictine nuns in 1959. "There was no money in the bank," says the university's president, Sister Thomas Welder, "but there was a great need to serve the people of the region." Today, that includes training teachers and healthcare workers, and intensive mentoring for business students, to help them build the connections needed to find jobs in the local economy.
But while the cost of living is relatively modest, that's not enough to make up for North Dakota's notoriously low wages. Statewide, annual pay ranked 48th in 2002, and many of Bismarck's citizens work two jobs just to stay above the poverty line.
Bismarck places near the bottom of another list. "Diversity here means whether you're Norwegian or German," jokes Becky Jones Mahlum, the city's public information officer. Bismarck's population is almost 95 percent white; most of the rest are American Indian. Still, says Mahlum, who has a daughter adopted from India, the city's friendliness extends to everyone.
Sia Ranjbar would agree. Originally from Iran, he immigrated to the United States in 1976, at age 19. For 22 years, Ranjbar lived in San Francisco, worked as an architect--and spent four hours a day in traffic. "I burned out on the stress," he says. Now he runs a coffee shop in downtown Bismarck and couldn't be happier. "People here treat me for who I am," he says, "and not for where I'm from. For me now, this is home."
Still, some in Bismarck can't wait to leave. A group of 20-something students and restaurant workers gathers at the Peacock Alley Bar & Grill over espresso martinis--a distinct departure from the light beer favored in many other local establishments. "You'd better believe we're stressed out," says Brian Hare, 26, who works at the restaurant as a chef. "We're stressed out about getting stuck here." The table agrees; Bismarck is a great place to grow up, swell for the old folks, perfect for raising a family--and a nightmare for anyone who wants a little excitement. The nightlife ("the same bunch of dudes looking for the same bunch of chicks every night") is boring, the art all runs to prairie landscapes, and the live-music scene is deadly. "At the best you're hoping for country," says Nathan Boyd, also 26, "and it's not even good country."
While the low wages are great for businesses, they make it hard for younger workers to get ahead. This is a region where the term outmigration is a regular part of the vocabulary. Mayor John Warford says that finding ways to stanch the outward population flow is a top priority. "It's an issue I understand very well," says Warford. One son is his partner in an orthodontic practice here, but two others live in Manhattan, and a daughter can't wait to finish college and join them. Warford is pushing tax breaks for entrepreneurs to create more local jobs. And he's betting that a new secure transportation facility, due to open next year, will help send Bismarck goods--from agricultural products to Bobcat excavators--to world markets, rather than sending the workers.
Seemly underbelly. If anyone sees the problems in a city, it's the beat cops. With two murders, 2003 was a hectic year for homicide detectives, but Bismarck's 89 sworn officers are kept busy with the lesser manifestations of human pain and frailty. There's been a recent spike in methamphetamine use, says Officer Michael McMerty, an eight-year veteran of the force. Meth labs often pop up in farming areas like Bismarck, he notes, because ammonia fertilizer is one of the drug's ingredients. "Overall, this is still a nice, safe town," says McMerty's sergeant, Steven Kenner. "But it's a city with growth pains. We're starting to hit the outer edge of what we can handle."
Still, the first eight hours of the Friday overnight shift are quiet, producing a handful of domestic disputes, a few traffic violations, and a single DUI charge. A liquor store calls in to report that employees are holding a minor for trying to make a purchase several months before his 21st birthday. McMerty waits until after a good frisking before letting on that he knew it was a sting--the kid was working with the police to see if the liquor store would check his ID. The officers all insist that this is an unusually slow night, but then again, everyone keeps pointing out that the weather really is usually much worse, too.
Maybe they just don't want the rest of us to feel bad about our own towns and cities. Or maybe they know how good they have it and don't want a nosy reporter to spill the beans. "If you tell people about it, they might come here," says Potter warily. Rogers, taking a slug of coffee, finishes the thought: "And screw it up." But don't worry about the gruffness. Bismarck is usually much friendlier than this--really.
[Map labels]
North Dakota
Bismarck
-Thomas Hayden
10. Quit your job
At 28, John Doyle was an overworked New York investment banker on the fast track. By most measures, he was a success. But he was also miserable. So during a semiannual review 2 1/2 years into the job, he simply quit. "Almost immediately I lost 35 pounds," says Doyle. For four months, he did little more than relax, rollerblade through Central Park, and read books. "Honestly, it was one of the happiest times in my life," he says.
After moving back to his mother's house, working for no pay as a line chef in a hip Chelsea restaurant for six months, and then relocating to Philadelphia, Doyle finally found his niche. As the founder and co-owner of John and Kira's Jubilee Chocolates, an artisanal chocolate company that promotes social change, Doyle expects to do half a million dollars in sales this year. His partner and wife, Kira Baker-Doyle, whom he met through social activism circles, is pregnant and due in March. The Food Network is featuring the couple in a reality show. "Quitting is extremely liberating," says Doyle, now 35. "It allows you to open up, listen to yourself closely, and hear things that you couldn't hear before."
Long considered the choice of losers and slackers, quitting can be one of the most empowering and active decisions that a person can make, says Evan Harris, author of The Art of Quitting . All things must come to an end, and by choosing when to quit a job, a relationship, a philosophy, or a bad habit, quitters direct their own destinies. History is rich with examples: Andrew Jackson quit school and joined the Army at 13--and later became the seventh U.S. president. Novelist Jack London quit both high school and college. Bill Gates quit Harvard and started Microsoft. Edward VIII quit being king of England to marry American divorcee Wallis Simpson. Greta Garbo quit being a movie star while still in her 30s to pursue a life of privacy.
Carpe diem. In some ways, now is a better time than ever to quit. "If you've been at one company for too long, corporate America figures that you are a dud," says Barbara Sher, author of I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was . "Companies are not loyal to employees anymore. Nobody blames you anymore and asks why you didn't stick with things."
The midlife crisis and the approach to retirement have long been socially accepted times to reassess. But it's increasingly acceptable to search for purpose and satisfaction wherever you are in life. It's by now a given that 20-somethings face serious decisions on responsibility, self-identity, relationships, and professional direction that can induce a crisis on par with midlife. For women who grew up in the post-feminist age, say the authors of Midlife Crisis at 30: How the Stakes Have Changed for a New Generation--And What to Do About It , the real midlife crisis comes in the early 30s, when many realize that contrary to everything they've been raised to believe, they face limitations in their careers and in decisions on marriage and children.
And retirees are now facing their own quitting conundrums. Far from fading into a golf course sunset, many of the 78 million baby boomers are redefining retirement as a third age of work and play--though not always happily. According to Ron Manheimer, director of the North Carolina Center for Creative Retirement at the University of North Carolina-Asheville, 30 percent of men and 11 percent of women go back to work after retiring. Some return out of boredom, others to pursue a long-held dream, and yet others out of financial necessity. "The art is finding a balanced life that has enough challenge, enough problem solving, enough fellowship, as well as enough leisure," says Manheimer.
Which is true if you're still in the workforce, too. But how do you separate low-grade dissatisfaction with the necessity of a true quit? "Stop and notice where you are, whether it's in a relationship, a job, or any situation," advises Betsy Taylor, president of the Center for a New American Dream, a think tank and environmental advocacy group. "If you're feeling a lot of stress and anxiety or you're not sleeping, it's important to pull back. Take 20 minutes of silence in the morning and ask how I can be the person that I want to be. Sometimes it can be scary to listen to your inner voice because the implication is that you have to make changes." And make sure it's really your voice. "Don't quit because someone discouraged you," says Sher. "Don't quit out of fear, and don't quit because you lack focus."
Larry Ferstenou felt "giddy as a child" the day he walked away from his vocational rehabilitation business. "Quit because you have other things you want to do," counsels Ferstenou, who developed a goal of retiring young and enjoying his life after watching his father work at a job he hated and die at age 52. And before you quit, try out your new interests. If you want to quit to paint or write, for example, try to paint and write first, and see if you really are suited for it.
Sit or spin? Then the question remains of how to go about quitting. When Cathy O'Neill of Atlanta was 21, she left her job and America to spend three years in an experimental community in India called Auroville. Now 50, she works for a company called Maroma that supports Auroville by exporting incense, candles, and other products around the world. Elisabeth Wadsworth was 25 in 2001 when she and two friends quit lucrative careers in Boston and moved to San Francisco. Wadsworth was unemployed for 14 months, but she doesn't regret her decision. "It gave me such freedom," she recalls.
Those with responsibilities like mortgages, spouses, and children don't have the same luxury, of course. Joe Patti, 58, of Chatham, N.J., spent most of his life working on Wall Street in information technology for financial institutions. Then he had his house remodeled, and the builder, recognizing Patti's organizational skills, asked him to come on as an employee. Patti weighed an offer he had at Standard & Poor's against the one to manage local housing sites. Despite his wife's preference that he stay corporate, Patti could not resist going to work in muddy boots, sweatpants, and a hard hat--all while taking about a 40 percent pay cut.
While Patti endures steady criticism from his wife for tracking mud into the house, storing construction materials in the garage, and letting his obsession with the job take over their weekends and evenings, he has no plans to go back to three-hour daily commutes and a suit and tie. "I thought that we'd see more of each other in our late 50s, not less," says his wife, Joan. Instead, she concedes, "I'll just keep on nagging, and he'll keep on telling me things are going to change. It's kind of the way it's been for 32 years."
Janet Luhrs quit being a lawyer after just two weeks to stay home with her children. She became an early pioneer of the voluntary simplicity movement. "I think that people just don't see past the box that they're in," she says. A single parent with a mortgage, Luhrs was able to scale back, get creative (she turned her basement into a rental unit), and support her family as a writer and speaker.
Then there's Evan Harris, author of The Art of Quitting , who has quit her full-time fascination with quitting. She also quit the single life in New York City and is now married and living in East Hampton with her husband and baby. "There was a point when I stopped thinking about quitting only as rejection but began to think of it as embracing as well," says Harris. Sticking with something you hate may take hard work, after all, but knowing when to quit, that takes wisdom. -Caroline Hsu
This story appears in the December 27, 2004 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.