Lately, I've noticed how much we pride ourselves on our multitasking ability. Yet, when I observe the effects of multitasking, I see a buzzing whirl of stress.
I am a recovering (still early) multitasker. I used to believe multitasking meant accomplishing more at super speed, making me look impressive and like I had everything together. But over time, I've seen how debilitating and chaotic it is. In particular, over the past few weeks, I've seen the signs of how cruel the myth of multitasking really is.
Let me start with my first reminder, which quickly became apparent after we returned to Sydney.
We were staying with Jorge's family after our caravan journey ended, and I asked a family member about some plans for later in the day. They replied, "Can I just focus on breakfast before thinking of anything else?" Their honest response stopped me in my tracks. I was surprised and, if I am honest, felt foolish. At that moment, I realised I was trying to multitask—to plan and add more tasks to their plate and mine. But when I took a second to reflect, I didn't need to ask them, and I didn't need to plan anything. So, why was it so crucial for me to be doing and planning?
Moments like these prompt me to ask: What value am I not connecting with? What is making me feel I need to plan everything out? Often, it's because I haven't taken a moment to walk, reconnect, or be present with myself that I feel the need to keep doing, doing, doing so I can feel worthy. This interaction was a stark reminder of the toll multitasking and over-planning can take on us.
Fast-forward a few days, and we were preparing to leave for Europe. You can probably guess there was a lot of multitasking: packing, checking, prepping, and repacking—especially on the day of our flight. Suddenly, I felt compelled to help clean the house, prepare a meal, get us all packed, and shave my legs… Ultimately, I was so overwhelmed by all the multitasking that I only accomplished packing the bags (yes, my legs are still hairy!).
We are now in Europe, and the jet lag has hit me hard. I couldn't focus, I felt dizzy all the time, and I constantly thought I was going to be sick. It was quite the experience! But I realised that to get through the day, I could only focus on one thing at a time, or else it felt like the world was spinning. And this made me think about how, when I listen to my multitasking friends (myself included), we all say something similar, which I'm sure you've heard before: "I feel like I have several plates spinning in the air all at once!" Yes, I knew it—you've heard that line too. And I wonder: Because we don't physically feel the impact, as I did with jet lag, do we fail to notice the toll multitasking takes on our health, our mental strength, and our ability to be present with those who matter most?
This week, I realised that staying grounded and focusing on one thing at a time (otherwise, I'd be sick!) helped me cope. And, funnily enough, I still got everything done. But I approached each task with a slow, patient, and focused mindset—from training a team the day after arriving to taking Amelia to a birthday party two days later (Yes, this girl already had plans!). Jet lag aside, anyone would think attending a five-year-old's birthday party in that state would be a nightmare, but I did what I knew I had to: I took it moment by moment, one thing at a time. I was present, and in the end, the day was beautiful and filled with great conversation, not just parent chit-chat but real conversations about travel, life, and feelings. It was amazing. I found I could connect on a deeper level, experiencing the day more meaningfully. I felt like I was just being—in the current moment, at the party, fully engaged in the conversations, without thinking about what needed to happen next.
But now that the jet lag has subsided, I can feel the temptation to multitask creeping back in. I hear myself saying, "OK, so I can do this and that, then we can go there, and if I just get this done…" I'm hyper-aware of it now—my head filling, my shoulders tightening, and the plates spinning again.
Amelia turned to me at a playground in Paris and said for the first time in a long while, "Mummy, watch me." I replied, "I am", but honestly, I was on my phone. She then said, "No, you're not. Come and watch me and play." I was taken aback. She knew I wasn't really there; she knew I was trying to be mum and work simultaneously, and she wasn't having any of it. In hindsight, she was right. I didn't need to work; I didn't need to think about something that wasn't happening for a few days. I could have just been with her. When I finally looked up, I saw it clearly: we all do this as parents and adults. We all run the multitasking gauntlet. My wise little five-year-old reminded me to stop and focus on one thing at a time.
So, how do we slow down this multitasking storm that swirls around us? How do we do what is expected and "stay ahead" when it feels like the only way to cope is to spin all the plates simultaneously?
If, as children, we could focus on what was in front of us, be present in our play, and enjoy the moment, we could bring that back as adults. Is it simply a matter of letting go of the notion that multitasking is the only way? That it doesn't make us faster, smarter, or more productive? Could it be learned through honest feelings and requests to slow down? When the plates start to spin, can we be reminded that we actually have the power to stop them and put them down? Can we be reminded when our children look at us with the answer, and we put down our phones, rub away our invisible lists, and be with them? We can.
Reflecting on the idea of multitasking and the myth that it makes us more capable or productive, I've come to realise that it has, in fact, made us forget how to truly enjoy a meal together, have a meaningful conversation with a friend, engage in imaginative play with our children, and even savour quiet moments with ourselves.
What if we gave ourselves permission to do less but be more? To slow down and embrace the fullness of each moment, trusting that life is richer and more meaningful when we focus on the task at hand?
Multitasking may seem like a badge of honour; however, a single focus and deliberate presence bring clarity, connection, and calm to our lives. It's time we let go of the illusion of productivity that multitasking promises and, instead, choose a path that honours the beauty of the present. What would it look like if we all put down the extra plates and savoured what was right before us?