Do Less
20,000-word monologue. Twenty-three characters. One actor. Cynthia Erivo brought every role in Dracula to life in the West End of London. Between the complex cinematography, the deft set and wardrobe changes, and the intricate blocking, the play was technically impressive.
And yet, it fell flat. The most important part of the play was missing. The narrative was not coherent. The characters became jumbled in Erivo's monologue. Throughout the show, I wanted to tell the writer-director, Kip Williams: do less. The problem with the play was not the performance. It was too much.
Doing too much is so tempting. Generative AI can easily generate messages, emails, or project plans. But these beautifully written documents are poor substitutes for the relational work that gives meaning. They do not move people. They simply sound good.
Writing a thoughtful message requires understanding the relationship and context behind the words. Real project plans emerge from many conversations. Yet our workplaces value the visible artifact of the email or project plan over the less visible work of relationship building. So we focus on producing more slide decks and documents to prove that we are good workers.
Often, we do this to the detriment of ourselves. Personally, I burned out. Unable to sustain the practice of doing more, I had to do less. When I stopped working almost every waking moment, I expected resistance. I feared that a boss or coworker would chastise me for not producing more. But nothing happened.
Most people didn't notice. They were too focused on being more productive to observe my output. During this period of near constant layoffs, many of my coworkers were understandably creating initiatives, slide decks, and documents to prove their value. The sheer volume of output made the organization much harder to navigate. So when I chose to do less, it went unnoticed.
Instead, I had conversations with coworkers. I heard the fears and anxieties that come with layoffs and uncertainty. I created space for this kind of emotional work. I also realized that people didn't know how our organization worked. Very little was documented publicly. So I slowly started working on a clear documentation strategy, inviting input from people across the organization. Eventually, my bosses and coworkers noticed the impact of my work. By doing less, my contributions were more obvious.
“Productivity should not look like exhaustion. The concept of laziness is a tool of the oppressor. A large part of your unraveling from capitalism will include becoming less attached to the idea of productivity and more committed to the idea of rest as a portal to just be.”
― Tricia Hersey, Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto
But the harder resistance was internal. I had felt validated when I produced a beautifully written document. I could link to it. I could add it to my portfolio. But an emotionally vulnerable conversation could not be shared in the same way. The work was not immediately legible. And I learned to find satisfaction in those intimate moments.
Even now, it's easy to respond to moments of uncertainty and upheaval by producing more. More posts. More emails. More plans. But responding well requires the opposite. More rest. More listening. More connection. We only notice the small shifts that are already happening when we slow down. The work is not in doing more. It is in doing less.
