I used to pride myself on my ability to do many things at once. When I was younger, I tried to do them quickly. Brush my teeth and pee at the same time. Answer the phone while typing an email. Do the laundry, make my grocery list, and tell my kids they’ll be late for school. At work, I could take notes at a lecture and listen to a podcast at the same time. I secretly thought that people who couldn’t do this weren’t talented or hadn’t taken the time to master this supposedly efficient way of navigating a fast-moving world.
The truth is, most of us aren’t multitasking at all. We’re “switch tasking,” rapidly shifting attention from one thing to another. The brain pays a price for this constant refocusing—mental fatigue, agitation, and more mistakes.
If you ask my loved ones, they’ll tell you I’m easily sidetracked. I won’t finish a sentence because I’ve thought of something else. Halfway through a conversation, I might seem distracted or preoccupied because I’ve already assumed what the person is going to say next, figured out the clue to a puzzle, or am bored out of my mind without anything else to grab my attention.
I recently participated in a two-week silent meditation retreat, during which I observed how my mind works. It was highlighted in technicolor. Thoughts leaped from one thing to another—processing information, fantasizing about winning a million dollars, debating whether I’d buy a new house, then drifting backward into old memories, trying to rewrite the past as if perfection could somehow be found there.
There was a lot going on at first. However, without my phone, computer, television, books, journal, reading, talking, eating mindlessly, and the usual distractions of daily life, something shifted.
I slowed down.
I did one thing at a time.
Drank a cup of tea without doing anything else. Walked slowly. Meditated for longer periods of time than I do at home. Heard an owl hoot in the early mornings before sunrise. Watched tadpoles swim in the nearby pond. Observed a patch of iris buds open and bloom, their stunning bright yellow color next to the lime green of its leaves.
I became more attuned to my thoughts and feelings, and understood my personality more clearly. My habits. Good and bad. How I impact others.
It left me humbled.
I used to think I was special because I could do so much at once. I’m not.
These days, I’m trying to approach life with fewer assumptions and more attention. To notice what’s in front of me instead of rushing past it. To listen more carefully. To resist the pull of autopilot.
And the one thing I know for sure is this: if I want to calm my mind, I need to do one thing at a time.
Enjoy the Passage of Time.
Sharon
© 2026. Sharon Kreider. All Rights Reserved.