The Good Kind of Busy

what I learned after leaving the hustle...and then missing it

I know this might sound a little ridiculous, but when we lived in L.A., I was genuinely stressed by my social calendar. The sheer volume of invitations was overwhelming. And yes, I realize this is a luxury problem but it was a real problem then, no less.

There were breakfasts, coffees, workouts, lunches, events, openings, dinners, launches, parties, previews, premieres, and “casual” get-togethers that were anything but casual. Managing the RSVPs was a job in itself. Outfit planning, another. And don’t even get me started on crossing the 405 for a 7pm engagement.

But more than the logistics, I felt like I was always trying to be in a million places at once. No matter how much I did, I was either missing out or letting someone down.

In LA, doing everything and being everywhere is a bit of a relevancy game. Miss the right event, and it said something. Go to the wrong one, and it said something else. There were parts of it I loved, and parts I absolutely loathed. But it was so deeply embedded in the culture that stepping off the hamster wheel didn’t feel like an option. It was expected. And frankly, it mattered. It meant showing up for the incredible people and brands I knew doing incredible things.

When the pandemic hit, I think a lot of us on that treadmill let out a collective sigh of relief. A pause. A timeout from the hustle on top of the hustle.

Then, early in the pandemic, we moved to Santa Ynez, a place where the social pace went from 60 to zero with a single drive up the 101. When the world came back online, those L.A. invites didn’t stop, but they were no longer just a quick pop in. I’d watch it all unfold on social media, missing what I would have been doing if we were still there…and I struggled.

Back in my too-busy L.A. life, I used to fantasize about a slower, quieter existence. One less concerned with hair-washing schedules aligning with social obligations and more rooted in calm, presence, stillness and an uninterrupted family life. But waking up inside the fantasy, and the reality, of a slower life was harder than I expected.