I’ve been promoting the importance of venting for many years with clients, but the one things I’ve often forgotten to encourage is decompression time. Decompression time is when we unwind from the day. It’s like relaxing, but it’s deeper. When COVID first kicked in and I started working from home, I noticed a hit to my brain because the only separation between work and home was a door – that was not enough. My brain really missed the 15ish minute drive home from work to unwind. When I was in the office, I left work around 9pm, which meant my drive home was low traffic – awesome – and on a highway – awesomer. I barely had to hit my brakes. Driving in traffic means being on high alert, which is exhausting in its own way – I feel sorry for commuters. Meanwhile, it’s amazing how relaxing it is to drive when you don’t have to worry about other drivers or be ready to suddenly stop. It’s no wonder years ago people took Sunday drives. You can’t now because there are so many stoplights, stop signs, and speed bumps everywhere. Speed bumps are the worst! Every time I drive over a speed bump I think of Daniel Tosh who made a joke about a city putting in speed bumps after a girl was hit by a car. He mentioned how mean that was to the parents who would hit that speed bump and think, “That’s what it would’ve been like hitting our daughter.” It’s a dark joke, and it’s made driving over speed bumps a bit creepy for me… and now I pass that onto you; you’re welcome. Any purposeful way of slowing traffic makes me angry. Considering brake dust is cancer causing and hitting the gas to get the car moving faster uses more fuel and expels more exhaust, all of these slow down techniques scream: “We’re killing the environment,” with a side of “We’re wasting your time, Sucka!” Yes, my brain is mean, but it’s not wrong. Flowing traffic is better for the environment and our brains.
After I started working from home, I discovered I needed to jog late at night a couple times in the work week in order to clear my head, which I continue to do. Considering I used to hate cardio (like a normal person), it’s quite the change that I now look forward to my late night jogs. Because I was so easily able to compensate for the lack of driving unwinding time, I didn’t give decompression time much thought until this past summer when a lot of my other decompression tools were slammed. For instance, my wife and I have been sleeping in the basement for the last four months on our daughters’ mattresses while they share ours in the living room on the main floor. Not only does this mean we’re not in our normal beds in their normal spots, our floor space in our house is largely erased by beds. Add in scattered clothes due to a lack of dresser/closet space and we’ve created a natural claustrophobic/hoarder feel in the house, which causes my brain to be on edge in the place where I’m supposed to be able to find peace. On top of this, my wife and I sleep in the room where the TV is, which means on the three nights she goes to bed earlier than me, I don’t get to watch a 20 minutes show at the end of the day, which really helps my brain calm down. I’ve also missed out on enjoying my gardens and visiting fancy garden centers like I love to do every spring and summer because I have more pressing matters to focus on with the addition we’re building. Possibly the biggest kicker started in July and has nothing to do with the addition; it’s just bad timing. For some reason our shower suddenly stopped having cold water. This means showers involve getting in the cold water as soon it’s turned on – that’s unpleasant – because I’m about to get roasted by the hot water – also unpleasant. Not having a good eight minute shower (I enjoy showers, but I’m cheap) at the end of the day really leaves me without a good chance to decompress. For the record, the shower hasn’t been fixed because of a part and plumber issue and not because I’m too cheap to get it fixed – there’s a limit to my cheapness.
Fortunately, on top of jogging for decompressing, I still have my writing, which has naturally increased this past summer. I know I’m in a rough spot when I write in my journal more than a couple times a month (almost every day is definitely more) and my blog ideas start piling up (I’m drowning in starter ideas). What has surprised me is I’ve even found my job can be good decompression if I’ve spent too much time with the kids. Similarly, being with my kids can be good decompression time if I’ve been working too much. Too much of anything has its struggles, and my kids can be hilarious. For instance, the other day my three year old went to my wife with cupped hands in front of her and said, “Here, Mommy,” and then opened them, which allowed throw up to fall all over my wife’s pants – hilarious… to me. Not even an hour later, the same daughter left the bathroom, went up to my wife with both hands up in front of her face and announced, “I went this many poops.” Her innocence is hilarious… most time. The other day we were at the park and she pointed at someone and said, “What’s wrong with that person’s eyes? It’s creepy.” (me in shock) “Um, that’s a sign she can’t see, and she has super human hearing… which is particularly unfortunate in this moment.”
God has actually created us with natural decompression times. There’s having to slow down to eat (unless you have toddlers like I do), there’s going to the bathroom (unless you have toddlers who interrupt you and/or make you rush), and there’s napping (again, if you don’t have toddlers). It’s no wonder parents with small kids are so on edge – we lose out on natural decompression times. It’s also no wonder renovations cause couples so many problems – we lose some of our decompression options while ramping up the stress with constant decisions that need to be made, money concerns, setbacks, not having home as a foundation, and conflicts with contractors who don’t show.
So what else would be considered decompression time? Good question, me. As someone new to paying attention to this, decompression time is whatever activity helps you breathe a sigh of relief: “Ahhhh, that’s good.” Maybe it’s a hot tub or a cup of hot chocolate. Maybe it’s eating a piece of cake or the smell of cinnamon buns. Maybe it’s sitting at a bonfire or looking at the stars (if you’re somewhere you can see stars). It can be watching something light and fluffy that doesn’t involve a lot of thinking or anything stressful. It can potentially be connecting with someone in a deeper way (unless you’re not social) or carefree playing an instrument. It can be doing a monotonous job without a timeline like cleaning dishes, vacuuming, cutting grass, or mopping a floor like in the movie Bruce Almighty. It can be lying on the couch and exchanging foot rubs (if you’re a weirdo like my wife who does that with her mom whenever she can because rubbing feet gross me out).
The big thing I should point out is decompression time isn’t scrolling on your phone because that’s a dopamine hit seeker. Decompression time is not a “high.” It’s not a rush; it’s a release. It also isn’t finishing a task – that’s more of a coping tool. It’s more about putting your feet up after the task is done. Some people will have a hard time decompressing because they don’t actually work hard enough to need the break. Meanwhile, workaholics can have a hard time with decompressing because we’re too on the go. This is one of the challenges I have when I travel – I just keep going and doing more stuff; I feel bad stopping because travelling is a special event and I don’t want to miss anything.
When I was growing up and we ate around the table as a family every night, there was a decompression feel to it as each person was able to share about their day. My wife and I do this now after the kids go to bed. We take 15 to 30 minutes every day to chat about the day and random things that cross our minds. The conversation isn’t very deep, but it’s calming. This is also why walks and hikes can be particularly helpful for people. There can be talking or silence as we let thoughts pass through our brains and we either reflect and let things go. If anything big does comes to mind, we should make a note to circle back to that thing later when we’re not in unwinding mode.
This week may you consider what decompression time means for you.
Rev. Chad David, ChadDavid.ca, Learning to love dumb people (like me)