Unlearning life
The productivity scripts we’ve all internalized.
I quit my job last year.
At first, it felt kind of reckless. I had nothing lined up, no backup plan. But I knew that if I wanted to change something for real, just swapping one job for another wouldn’t cut it. It would maybe feel fresh, different and exciting in the beginning, but after a little while in the core it would just be same old. I’d need space, the time to sit with myself and figure out what I want. What are my values, my interests, my passion, what do I really want to do, what’s my purpose? Those questions don’t get answered in between meetings. Or during that half-conscious hour on the couch after a long day.
And once I quit, I was surprised to just feel relieved instead of panic. I expected anxiety to show up immediately, I thought the old stressors would pop up that I experienced in previous transitioning periods. The whispers that I cannot take a break, it’s scary to not have the next moved planned, to not have it figured out, to not know ‘when to start again’. But I simply was incredibly glad - glad not to have the next move already booked in my calendar.
The year of 2024 became my year of unlearning. I started to peel back the scripts I’d absorbed without even realizing. Taught in school, reinforced in university, hardened in the early years of my career. Scripts that high-achievers like me adopt eagerly because they offer direction, safety and approval. And I was somehow glad to have something guide me, to have a blueprint for life and to not have to question everything constantly.
But at some point, those same scripts started to suffocate me. Because to choose a different path and to actually do things differently, you have to unlearn nearly everything you’ve ever been taught. That’s a full-scale internal renovation. It’s disorienting and lonely and, honestly, a little brutal.
And right in the middle of that unlearning process, I found this podcast episode with Mo Gawdat and Steven Bartlett. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve listened to it. Every time I started doubting my decision and wondering if I’d made a mistake leaving behind stability, structure, and a salary - I’d press play. And suddenly, things made sense again and I felt like I was on the right track.
So I’m writing this as both a recommendation and a reflection about some of the ideas of the podcast. Because I think more people need to hear what Mo said. Because if you’re feeling the weight of stress you’ve normalized, this might be the reminder you didn’t know you needed.
The productivity cult we didn’t mean to join
Here’s the thing that Mo points out: stress is an addiction and it’s an addiction fully accepted or even celebrated by society.
It’s a badge of honor that we gladly showcase. Being busy means you matter. Your calendar’s packed? Great, you must be doing something right. And when we’re not busy? We feel like something’s wrong. And that indeed we should be doing something, we should be productive.
That’s the script I’d been living for years. Always filling the space. If I wasn’t working, I was out seeing friends. If I wasn’t doing either of those, I’d tackle errands or finally “get ahead” on life. Even reading a book had to be productive, so it was nonfiction only, ideally something I could highlight or turn into a plan.
I didn’t really know how to be still or alone. And even once I stepped away from it when I quit my job, it didn’t leave me. Every time I wasn’t productive, I immediately questioned it. I’d be sitting on the beach on Tuesday morning, finally breathing and my brain would go “You should be doing more.”
We turn stress into a weird kind of status symbol. Saying “I’m slammed” feels like proof that you’re relevant, in demand, but what it really does is keep us numb.
It keeps us moving so fast that we don’t have time to ask why we’re moving at all.
Why slowing down feels impossible
We hate change, even if we know that this change would be good for us. Changing or unlearning a script is painful. Staying in a painful situation is also hard but for most of us, it is easier than changing itself. At least we know how to deal with the current situation, so we stay.
And then, once you actually manage to slow down, the scariest part arrives. It’s the silence that follows. Sit still long enough and ‘all the demons show up’ as Mo put it. The doubts. The past. The big, messy life questions we’ve spent years stuffing under meetings and deadlines and plans. Most people aren’t running towards a dream but they’re definitely running from something.
So we rather keep our brains busy. We add another project. Another trip. Another half-hearted “sure” to something we didn’t want to do in the first place. Everything, not to face those questions that we actually all should turn our attention to.
Setting boundaries
The problem is that the world isn’t going to tell you to slow down. It won’t set limits for you or take decisions that are good for you. It will gladly take everything you’re willing to give. Your energy, your weekends, your health, your joy. If you don’t decide where the line is, someone else will and it mostly won’t be in your favour.
We’re good at measuring the gains of this trade: money, titles, reach, new shiny things. But the losses? Those are harder to see and rarely put into the equation. Mental health and well-being, freedom, time, joy, relationships. You don’t get a notification when your creativity dries up, or your relationship starts to fray, or you forget what it feels like to have a slow morning. So we simply fail to put those factors in the equation.
Mo and Steve realize in their conversation that most of us don’t have a ceiling. There’s no pre-plan of “when I reach this, it’s enough”. We treat “enough” like a place we’ll reach someday. But without actually defining it, we never get there. It’s time to unlearn our scripts of limitless growth, ambition, and output and start setting our own boundaries.
Redirecting attention
Constantly filling up your calendar and never stopping to set your limits doesn’t just take a toll on your health, your happiness, your life, or your sense of purpose. It also has a cost for the world around us - for society as a whole.
Being busy dulls your sense of what matters. When every part of your day is scheduled, when your brain is constantly jumping to the next thing, you don’t leave much room to notice what’s going on outside your little loop. And yes, it’s easier to focus on your own to-do list than to feel the weight of everything else. It’s very hard to unlearn our idea that individual productivity is more important than collective responsibility.
However, the critical issues of our time are sidelined. We lose the capacity to be thoughtful citizens, to engage with the world beyond our inboxes. So the big stuff such as the climate crisis, the ethics of AI or defending democracy slips further into the background.
You may have noticed, I keep coming back to this point. If we want to build a better future, we have to start by reclaiming our attention and redirecting it toward what really matters. It’s now more important than ever to start our process of unlearning and step into total reinvention.
And if you’re stuck in the storm of busyness, maybe this is your time. No, not someday, but now.




I love this piece, especially the part 'Sit still long enough and ‘all the demons show up’ as Mo put it. The doubts. The past. The big, messy life questions we’ve spent years stuffing under meetings and deadlines and plans. Most people aren’t running towards a dream but they’re definitely running from something.'
I quit my job without plans too, it has only been one month but I am also curious on thinking of finding ways to become engaged citizens again, preferably at scale. Glad to witness your journey, started following!
When I quit my corporate job many years ago and hadn't yet figured out what I wanted to do next but knew that the Universe would guide me along that. When people asked me what I was doing,
I would just tell them I was self unemployed!