The Magic of Doing Less

New science about how taking things off your plate is often a hidden path to healing

Good morning, Beautiful Human,

If you celebrated, I hope your Thanksgiving was kind to you.

By that, I hope your day offered unexpected respite, less stress than initially anticipated, and lots and lots of delicious food that was actually enjoyed — and not served with a heaping side of family drama.

Of course, I’m not as naive as my opening sentence implies. What holiday is kind? In this country? In these times? With mental illness? And rising healthcare costs? Just oof. So much oof.

That’s why today, as the pressure cooker of the holiday season really cranks up the intensity with Black Friday bonanzas, picture-perfect holiday card deliveries, and staged social media highlight reels up the wazoo, I’m not sharing another dark chapter about my serious mental illness recovery or a nerdy piece on recovery and healing. Nope, not this week.

Instead, I want to validate the moment and share a new scientific study that felt like kindness incarnate.

Before getting a wee bit nerdy, let’s just get one thing straight:

Everything feels like A LOT right now because everything IS A LOT right now.

Our bodies and brains did not evolve to process this much information, this much trauma, and this much change on an every single moment-to-moment basis. The modern and increasingly digital world floods us day in and day out.

For almost all of human history, our brains evolved to survive not consume hours of varied and video-based information online. Our brains evolved to track seasons, read facial expressions, build and maintain social ties, tell and hear stories, and solve problems, slowly and in community.

Our brains did not evolve to watch hundreds of thirty second TikTok videos, swipe fifty potential mates while waiting for other to join Zoom or send 78 emails a day. Quite simply, we are not built to process information at this cadence and volume and the impact is real. It exhausts our brains, nervous systems and bodies.

And yet we talk to ourselves as if we should keep up effortlessly with it all — as if being overwhelmed is a personal failure, instead of a physiological reality of our biological limitations.

So, again I say:

Everything feels like a lot right now because everything is A LOT right now. And honoring that truth, and saying that each time I become overwhelmed really helps me.

Furthermore, it keeps me in the “one problem game” – the problem of my life being A LOT and prevents me from descending into the “two problem game” – where I not only need to navigate the overwhelm I’m feeling, but also secondary feelings of shame, blame, guilt or repression.

Simply. (A) Life being A LOT is brutal. (B) Life being A LOT and then feeling guilty or angry or ashamed that we feel overwhelmed, is even more brutal.

So, here’s to sticking to just one round of brutality and validating that it’s all a lot right now and that’s not on us, that’s on the world today.

A new study asks us to consider: Do Less.

Now, let’s get nerdy and infuse my most recent favorite study into our futures.

Happiest of spoilers: this is not about self-optimization (fuckery!) of any kind.

The research at a glance:

In this recently-published study, titled, “People overlook subtractive solutions to mental health problems,” by Tom J. Barry & Nadia Adelina (2025) argues something simple — but in many ways radical — for how we usually approach “self-care,” “healing,” and mental-health advice.

Here’s what they say: when it comes to our mental health we almost always default to adding more (new practices, routines, habits) when trying to solve distress, rather than removing or subtracting what’s hurting or overwhelming us.

That bias doesn’t only come from well-meaning friends or family dishing out advice. It shows up everywhere — in social media threads, in everyday conversations, in Substack pieces like my own (whoops!) and even in AI chatbots.

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What the researchers found

• Across eight studies — including experiments with hypothetical scenarios, analyses of real Reddit support threads, and AI-generated advice — the overwhelming majority of suggestions were additive (do more/new things) rather than subtractive (stop, reduce, or remove something).

• The advice to “do more” was not only more common — it was also rated as more effective, more doable, and more “helpful” by participants.

• The researchers suggest that the idea to constantly “do more” to heal, may contribute to overwhelm, especially for people already carrying heavy loads (like those with mental illness). They also raise a flag: when community-based support (friends, loved ones, peer networks) is often the first line of defense for mental health — this bias can make recovery feel like a never-ending to-do list.

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How does this resonate for you?

For me, holy wow, did this strike a chord.

When have I not thought of my recovery or adventures in healing as additional work to do? I mean, I literally started an entire Substack to interrogate the many ways to do healing work.

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As I reflected on this study, I also happened to be mapping out some chapters of my memoir by sorting my old health records. As I did so, I found a trend that further celebrates the power of Doing Less.

I noticed that over the past twenty years, almost all of my notable decreases in symptoms didn’t start with adding a novel therapy or new treatment regimen. My symptom relief began with taking things off my plate – with “de-loading the system,” as I like to say.

In high school, this looked like getting more time on tests and cancelling my extracurriculars. In college, this looked like taking three classes a term instead of the usual four, and taking incompletes when needed. In recovery, this looked like decreasing personal and home hygiene pressures, cancelling depleting social plans, and letting go of my perfectionism as a whole.

The more I reflected on this, the more I realized how critical it is to celebrate — doing less can be revolutionary.

So today, I’m not going to offer you Yet Another Thing to try that will inevitably get added to that to-do list that is already unbearably long, I am offering you a permission slip for less — and the evidence that suggests this just might be exactly what your holiday season is looking for.

Enter:

Twenty things to take off your plate this holiday season (and no, I’m not talking about that second slide of leftover pie)

1. Consider releasing the expectation to be “on.”

We are all in the trenches of our own lives, so for the love of survival and sanity, screw the performance of social grace perfectionism. We are allowed to be quiet, tired, boundaried or simply present. Showing up is enough.

2. Choose gatherings that support your capacity, don’t feel pressure to attend by default.

Friends and family are indeed gifts. AND we don’t owe our body and nervous system to anyone else’s calendar. We get a vote. Yes, our capacity gets a gosh darn vote.

3. Let’s create whatever level of “holiday magic” feels right — all, some, or none.

If you are into it, go you. (Light that tree. Bake those cookies. Have at it!) At the same time, if, like me, you are on your sixth day of doing the arm pit sniff test and saying “yup, today I will shower” and still not doing it, screw the added labor of holiday anything. Small, real moments count so here’s to the messy ones. (And also, to me taking a shower before my mother-in-law gets here because deodorant is really really no longer cutting it.)

4. Let’s allow family dynamics to unfold without taking it all on.

Oh wowza does this one swing a punch. For as long as I can remember, I have felt like I must be the family mediator. I have to fix and absorb every bit of discomfort and pain that anyone in the house feels. But today is my time. My peace is not a group project and nor is yours. That discomfort is THEIRS. Let them grow through it. (I mean, you don’t want to sacrifice their growth do you?!)

5. Let’s offer our bodies ease, comfort, and gentleness (instead of guilt around food, body, appearance, or energy.)

If my six days unshowered haven’t shown you that I’ve let go of this one already, welp, allow me to add in a few extra details. I have already stashed two bags of Lou’s Day old donuts around my house. No I’m not telling you where because then Dave could find them. I have also outfit planned my holiday ensembles: sweatpants, sweatpants and oh wait, more sweatpants. AND I have told Dave that I will be taking Nyquil and sleeping in already. So yup, let them go and lean into whatever survival donut stashing equivalent celebrates you. Our body is never a negotiation.

6. Let’s make room for gratitude, sure — but also whatever else is true.

I love true, genuine, honest-to-good gratitude. I do. It has rewired my brain a lot. AND Gratitude and exhaustion can coexist. Actually, not only can they coexist, THEY DO! We do not have to curate our feelings just because its the time of year where we celebrate colonial violence (I mean wtffffff).

7. Let’s allow traditions shift to match our actual lives.

Traditions are allowed to evolve, and we are too. Yes, gingerbread houses were fun as kids. Yes, that biscotti recipe is delicious. And YES, I am wiped out. I almost suggested to Dave last night that we start a tradition where no one talks the Saturday after Thanksgiving but oh wait, then I agreed to multiple social plans. Ooof. trying here. Moral: we are not failing other people, the season and our past joy by choosing what works for us now.

8. Consider the need to over-give — gifts, time, money, emotional bandwidth – or give at all.

Now, showing up for community in this heartbreaking time is paramount and incredible AND it can be done with boundaries and sustainability of self in mind. I keep writing this during morning pages so I thought I’d share in case:

I am not a mineral to be mined. If I have nothing left, there is nothing left to give.

Choose what works for you this season and know, a little kindness goes a long way and can be enough.

9. Let’s allow things to be human — instead of perfectly held.

Ooooh baby this one. Every year, I say this is the year I’m not going to break down over the holidays. Welp, last year after I said that I ended up having a fugue state in front of Noah Kahan at a local bar and weeping hysterically and incomprehensibly thereafter. Yup. That happened. So no more of that BS idea.

It’s just a fact. Things fall apart sometimes — meals get burned, plans get cancelled, expectations get dashed and fugue states in front of internationally renowned singers you love just happen. So you and me both, let’s remember, we don’t have to hold it together. We have to be and stay human and that is a messy truth.

10. May we let go of the belief that we have to end the year “better” than we started.

I’m sure you’ve seen the ads. “Jump start your new year by ending on a high note.” barf gag just please stopppp. We don’t owe transformation to anyone. Survival is enough. We are enough.

11. No one has to send holiday cards — on time (or at all).

Yes, they’re cute. Yes, I enjoy seeing your adorable families. And hell to the no am I getting my shit together enough to do this. Your joy (or absolutely disastrous and hilarious family photo shoot) is still valid if it’s not preserved in a holiday card.

12. We don’t have to stress ourselves by feeling pressured to buy the “perfect” gifts.

Everything is beyond expensive right now so I am hardcore on Team Baked Goods and Dried Flowers but if you do have the means to give gifts this year, please know that you don’t actually have to match anyone’s expectations or budgets. My current favorite gift are Audible credits but I would be just as grateful for cookies and a card or a big hug next time I see you.

13. We don’t have to every family member who wants to see us.

I find this very difficult AND we are (actually) allowed to choose the visits that our nervous system can handle. Love and kindness do not require unlimited access.

14. Consider that hosting in our real, lived-in houses might be a gift to others.

How many of us have felt the pressure to make sure the floors are spotless before company comes over? But — holy heck the beauty of a lived-in house. Hospitality is not a performance and let me tell you, there is nothing kinder to my system than walking into someones house when they have dirty dishes or messy rooms. It means they are their real selves with me and that – THAT is the greatest.

15. Consider allowing others to manage their own disappointments and hurts.

As much as this fawn response of mine tries to, I can’t actually make people feel things. I am not in charge of how other people feel and most notably, how they feel about my boundaries. Disappointment is survivable — for us, and for them.

16. Let’s protect our well-being even when tensions rise.

We do not need to keep the peace at our own expense. It’s been A YEAR. We all know this so let’s remember that we don’t need to absorb comments, politics, or passive-aggression to “keep the vibe.” Our well-being matters and survival donut stashes are great when the conversation starts tapping one’s well-being.

17. We can honor real moments instead of performing them for social media.

Holy cow – the things I’ve already seen in the last two days – the elaborate matching pajamas, the tablespreads that go for miles. Holidays are not content. They are just days, and however we get through it – quietly, messily, choatically – it’s just as valid as what is spammed online.

Did my pie look like Martha’s? Hellllll no. It collapsed, squirted sticky apple juice everywhere and was G—D delicious.

18. Let’s consider saying “yes” only when it aligns with our actual capacity.

We don’t need to say “yes” just because we think we should. Ooooof. Obligation is not a love language. It’s cruelty. Recently, I’ve taken to asking myself, will I have the energy to do tomorrow if I engage with this? If it’s a no to that, it’s a no to the ask. And yes, its scary to say no — and also downright empowering.

19. Acknowledge the truth of this season, however it lands.

Holidays bring up a lot – those who are no longer there, past experiences that didn’t go as you’d hoped. If holidays come with grief, loneliness, trauma, or tenderness — I’m here with you and also here to remind us both that we are not doing anything wrong. We are just telling the truth, we don’t have to pretend.

20. Consider our own levels of participation in holidays, and their expectations. Consider rest.

We are all allowed to opt out — gently, quietly, fully, or partially. We don’t have to celebrate, perform, decorate, host, travel, or “make it festive” if this season feels overwhelming, heavy, too expensive or simply not right for you this year.

Rest is a valid tradition. Not participating is a valid choice. And we don’t have to earn it if that is what our body is saying is right for us this year.

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For me, I’m in for an attuned approach this year. I’m letting go of all of thse expectations and instead honoring that each day is different and that when that day comes, I will meet it and me where my body and mind need to be met no matter how hard the plan cancelling, disappointment sewing and reality of that it might bring to life.

And now, I’m off to watch an episode of “The Beast in Me” (Claire Danes is EVERYTHINGGGGGGGGGGG) before I celebrate my little sister and my soon-to-be niece with alllllll the pastries and leftover pie!

Wishing you a day and sending love to you with the hopes you are still horizontal.

Kindly,

Kate

Ps. No I did not take a shower. Instead, I made it fun and took a bubble bath. Sneaky hygiene for the win!