A meaningful fall
- mry2117
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
Can randomly toppling down teach you something? Maud Yaïche reflects on feeling exhausted both physically and mentally. And how she learned to balance the time she spends on work and with her loved ones.
One night last February, I was in Paris, jogging along the stone-lined banks of the Seine. In a dark spot, I tripped on a stone and fell. My jogging outfit was torn. My legs were bleeding. I’d been holding my phone, and now the screen was shattered into a million pieces. I walked home for an hour and a half, sobbing the whole way, not just because I was hurt, but because my body was completely exhausted.
I’m known for doing a lot in a day. I remember telling my twin sister: “If your calendar isn’t full every night, you won’t be happy in life. You need to optimize it.” Being busy meant that I was always progressing in life, learning new things, meeting new people. And although I didn’t admit it, being busy also meant I was staying one step ahead of the future that I felt uncertain and afraid about. I keep a to-do list on my computer. In February, it ran two or three pages, in small characters—only two or three things were crossed off. Friends would see it and laugh, it was obviously too long. I was trying to keep up: preparing classes for the high school where I taught Social Sciences, working on my master’s thesis, doing a part-time internship, volunteering for a social science journal, preparing for a half-marathon, and on top of all that trying to write an article. I thought I could handle it. I really tried. But at some point, it just got out of hand. My head was unclear, everything was blurry. Honestly, I wasn’t doing much, and whatever I did, I did it in a hurry or did it wrong. The day after the fall, I had an important phone call scheduled, an appointment with my university advisor. I had already stood him up, not once, but twice. And I did it again. Three times in three weeks. Same day, same hour.
One summer in Paris, three or four years ago, my twin sister Clara wasn’t doing so well. I didn’t know what was going on, she seemed a bit off. She’d told me she wanted to spend more time together, and I said sure, but I didn’t really slow down. Finally, we met up at a cafe near Châtelet–Les Halles.We sat, sipping our “café crème” and I kept checking the time. I had plans later that evening with a friend. And I told her I had to head out soon. She didn’t say much…she didn’t really get the chance.
After I took that fall while jogging, my brother told me that it wasn’t just random, it meant something. Around the same time, during my thesis defense, a professor on the jury said, “You need to focus on doing less, but doing it better.” After all those talks, I realised I wasn’t just exhausted because I was doing too much, but also because I was doing the wrong things.
Soon after, I moved to New York to be a visiting student, and I knew things needed to change. Being in a new city was an opportunity to start fresh and focus on what really matters. I made it a priority not to run out of time for the things that count, like catching up on the phone with my twin sister and my parents, meeting up with a few close friends I made in the city.
Since the fall, I've tried to be less caught up in things that aren't really at the core of what’s important for me. Clara, my twin sister, was there when I fell last year. When I arrived home, she told me she could have picked me up, if I used someone else's cell phone. We laughed and took a picture of me and my smashed phone screen, which was repaired the next morning. Back then, she had my back. Now I’m also trying to have hers.
