Being a working, single mother, can be a tough job on the best of days. But being an ambitious, involved, working, writing, guest speaking, single mother is even tougher. Believe me I’m not trying to toot any horns here. I’m writing this because I’m sure you understand.

You can insert your own descriptors, but you’re probably juggling as many roles in the course of a day as I have been. We all do it. Our society places an inordinate value on being “busy.” Business is worn like a badge of honor.

Or at least I was. And all of my conversations started sounding the same.

Friend: Hi Bryna! How are you?

Me: Busy. How are you? (While checking iPhone and returning email.)

Friend: I’m good… (At which point I had already stopped listening because I was too busy to process what my brain deemed erroneous information.) Are you even listening to me?

Me: No. I mean, yes! (Phone rings.) Oh wait. Sorry. Just have to get this. (At this point the person would walk away, and I wouldn’t notice.)

When I finally realized I was actually filtering information to this extent, something snapped. Actually, something was snapping before that. I started to realize I had a problem when I would stare at my computer screen blankly, with zero inclination to write or be creative. The proverbial (ink) well had run dry. I was so busy I couldn’t think. Something had to give.

One night, as I was getting my son to bed and checking my email (multi-tasking to the extreme), he grabbed my phone and said in all of his seven year old wisdom, “Mom, you need a time out!”

The kid was on to something.

I wasn’t going to sit in the corner facing the wall or anything, but I definitely needed to take some time to prioritize. So I put myself on a time out of the grown-up variety; a self-imposed limit on the “busy” factor.

The first thing I did was stop writing. I know, I know, it’s my job! And I did write for clients, so I’m cheating a bit here. But part of what was happening was that I was burning the creative candle at both ends. I was generating so much content that I had stopped seeing its value. It had become a mere check list. Check lists are for busy people, and I refused to be busy.

The second part entailed actually reading – a book. I will admit something incredibly scary here. I hadn’t read a novel in a year. I had bought many books. I had begun to read many books. But I had not finished a single one of them. I was far too busy. So I read. And I didn’t stop at one book. I’ve read four in the past two months, and it feels good.

I’ve also implemented a few other lifestyle changes. I went to bed at 9 pm for two weeks (sometimes 8:30). I have stopped checking my email while putting my son to bed. I go for walks with friends, and refuse to feel guilty. I try to lean into conversations. I listen.

It’s taken some time, but slowly the creative juices are flowing again. I’m starting to feel excited about writing. My son is happy to have me back. And I’ve realized that being “busy” is ok, but having a life entails more than simply filling time – no matter how productive you are. Sometimes, what’s really innovative, is giving yourself a chance to simple “be.”

Now, when someone asks me how I am, I smile and say, “Absolutely great.” And I mean it.