I feel fortunate and grateful to have had plenty of time for ‘just’ being over the last couple of weeks. Getting up when I’m ready rather than when the alarm wakes me. Enjoying time with family and friends. Loving time on my own. Putting aside the ‘shoulds’ and ‘oughts’ and drifting along with no fixed plans. Pressing pause on reality. Appreciating the days gradually getting longer. The light returning. Reflecting on the year just passed and anticipating the year ahead.

For so many of us life is busy. So much to do. Too much to do.

But for too many of us, life is far from busy. Nothing much to do.

So here are some new year thoughts about ‘doing’ and ‘being’ – and getting the balance right.

Getting everything done and everybody done

“There is no quality time spent with the residents, its all about getting everything done and everybody done in record time… Its also really hard work and many care homes dont like you sitting with the residents, they expect you to be doing something all the time.” Mumsnet [1]

‘Doing personal care.’

‘Doing Jim.’

‘I’m going to do Mabel.’

“Getting everybody done.”

“Doing something all the time.”

As ever, when we pay attention to our language, we expose so much about the reality of our practice.

Doing to.

Doing for.

Delivering care.

Our use of the term ‘doing’ reflects the transactional nature of ‘care’ work – and of social work too.

‘Doing an assessment.’

‘Doing reviews.’

‘Doing safeguarding.’

It exposes an absence of connection and conversation in our approach. Reveals how the completion of tasks and procedures and forms has become the work. How we prize doing things right over doing the right thing. How what can be counted often appears to be all that counts.

Percentage of contacts signposted to other services.

Safeguarding calls triaged within 48 hours

Proportion of assessments completed within 28 days.

Number of homecare hours delivered.

Total residential and nursing placements.

Number of cases closed.

There’s no KPI for being with. No measure for being alongside. No time for being curious. No space for being human.

We even refer to ‘doing strengths-based practice’. ‘Doing person-centred care’. ‘Doing co-production’. Turning a different way of being into something else to do.

What can you do?

We promote self-sufficiency – helping you “to increase your independence or regain your skills so that you can do as much as you can for yourself”.

Our assessments “explore what you can do for yourself”. “We look at what you can do rather than what you can’t do.” “[We] might ask you to describe how well you do certain things like making a cup of tea and getting out of a chair.”

In our relentless focus on what you can and cannot do, we neglect to understand what matters most to you.

We’ve forgotten (or never acknowledged) our duty to promote wellbeing. Ignored the importance of being valued. Being respected. Being included. Being connected.

And we rush to ‘do something’ – to fix and to solve – overlooking the importance of being present. Being there. Being kind.

What do you do?

Activity defines our lives. What do I need to do today? What shall we do tonight? What are you doing at the weekend? What did you do in the holidays?

Activity shapes our identity. We introduce ourselves by explaining what we do, invariably linked to employment – ‘I’m a…’, ‘I work in…’, ‘I work with…’, ‘I’m retired…’, ‘I’m between jobs…’ Status gained (and lost) through association with occupation and production. Assumptions made. Labels attached.

And although this economic lens through which we view ‘what we do’ invites stigma and exclusion, having ‘something to do’ brings important structure and meaning to our lives. Yet in serviceland we somehow don’t value purpose. While we concentrate on the ‘activities of daily living’ you can and can’t do, we neglect to ask if you can do what you want to do. We assess if you can get out of bed, but we don’t consider whether you have a reason to get up. We prescribe four calls a day, but don’t discuss the hours in between.

Doing what you want

So many of us take doing what we want for granted. This freedom is so integral to our everyday lives that we don’t acknowledge or appreciate it. And yet we’re so cautious about people with cause to draw on support having the equivalent autonomy. We’re suspicious that asking ‘what do you want to do?’ opens opportunities for exploitation and advantage rather than equal opportunities. We’re nervous about articulating the purpose of social care in terms of ‘living the life you choose to lead’ – (‘but what if people choose…’) – picturing the extraordinary, not the desired ordinary. And ultimately, we’re so reluctant to relinquish our power and control that we impose layers of hierarchy and bureaucracy to restrict people’s power and control, instead of trusting and enabling people to do what matters most to them.

But this is ‘independence’ – not doing everything for yourself but having the resources and support to do what you want to do, and to be who you want to be.

This is social work – not doing things right but doing the right thing – and being human.

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I’ve welcomed the chance to drift through recent days, being in the moment and enjoying ‘just’ being, but I know it’s a temporary state, and I have much to anticipate in the year ahead.

Lots to do.

So while I might seek to pause a little more this year, I’m conscious that there’s a balance to be had between being and doing, and that maybe what’s key to this balance is the time and space to do what I want. The freedom to be me.

Don’t we all deserve such freedom?

Don’t we all have a right to make those choices?

To do, and to be, and to become.

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References

[1] ‘To ask about opportunities starting as a Care Worker’, Mumsnet, 28 December 2019