When Everything Has a Job
I was at the gym one morning with my earbuds in, and I put on music instead of a podcast.
I almost changed my mind. I opened YouTube Music, saw my playlist, and had the familiar thought that I should probably use the hour for something. A finance podcast. An audiobook. Something I could point to afterwards and call useful.
Instead, I left the music on.
Somewhere in the first few minutes, I felt an ache in my chest. Not pain exactly. More like I had been holding something in for a long time without realizing it. It was strange how quickly my mind tried to move past it, find a better use for the hour, and get back to normal.
A Reason for Everything
My life has a lot of things in it that matter to me. I have a portfolio system I built so our money can work toward more freedom for our family. I have Spark, which has taken up a huge amount of my attention because I genuinely believe it could become one of the most useful things I have ever built. I read for book club, I study trading, I write here, and I spend most of my days looking after Flynn while Inwu works.
None of that feels like a mistake. I like building systems. I like learning things properly. I like having a reason for where my time goes.
But standing there at the gym, I noticed that I had given every part of my life a job. If I was listening to something, it should teach me. If I was reading, it should improve me. If I was relaxing, I should at least be recovering efficiently enough to do something useful afterwards.
Music did not fit neatly into that system. It was just music. It did not need to make me better at anything.
The Reflex
The argument for replacing music with a podcast is not irrational. An hour is an hour. A good audiobook can be enjoyable and still leave me with an idea I can use later. I can listen to music any time.
That is the kind of logic I am good at, and most of the time it serves me well. It is part of why I can build things like Spark while raising a child and keeping up with everything else I care about.
The problem is not logic. The problem is how quickly I can use it to explain away a feeling.
I have been playing Slay the Spire 2 in the evenings since finishing a big stretch of work on Spark. It is fun, and I do not regret it, but it is also another thing that keeps my brain moving. I am reading cards, thinking about synergies, planning the next turn, trying to make the right decision every few seconds.
Music was different. It did not ask me to optimize anything or figure anything out. I had forgotten how little room I had left for that.
Keeping Some Things Unuseful
My first instinct was to solve this by making a better rule for myself. I could schedule more unstructured time, track whether I listened to music, or make a list of things that were allowed to have no productive outcome.
Even as I thought about it, I could see the problem. I would be turning the thing I missed into another system to maintain.
I do not think there is a grand lesson here, and I am not suddenly against podcasts, plans, or trying to use my time well. I will keep building Spark. I will keep reading and studying and making the most of the limited time I have.
I just want to notice the moment when I reach for the more defensible option instead of the thing I actually want. Sometimes that will be an audiobook. Sometimes it will be music.
That morning, it was music, and I let it play.