“Similar to an investment portfolio, I want to invest in my life”, one TikToker recommends as the means of living a more intentional life. That sounds like my idea of hell, maybe triggered by my long-enduring dislike for Maths as a History and French student. But perhaps what unsettles me most is the idea that every single act must be intentional, part of a relentless effort to sculpt a more perfected version of ourselves.
So, what does it mean to be intentional? Simply put, it’s about making conscious, purposeful decisions rather than letting life happen by default.
Let’s be clear: I’m not arguing for the death of intentionality. If that were the case, lifestyle gurus and influencers would be coming after me with pitchforks. After all, without some intentionality comes laziness. Your deliberate choices have desired consequences, for better or worse.
For example, when you’re a young adult still figuring things out, it’s surprisingly easy to see how your past actions have led to where you are now. Without deciding my drawing skills weren’t entirely up to scratch for GCSE Art, I would’ve never studied French past the age of 13. Or if I hadn’t turned up to the welcome meeting for The Mancunion in September 2022, I likely wouldn’t be writing this article now (how very meta).
This type of intentionality is invaluable. You can’t progress without pushing yourself out of your comfort zone or choosing to make a change. But what we shouldn’t get bogged down in are conscious decisions about the mundane. Without unintentionality, life gets boring.
A big part of being intentional is avoiding wasted time. In our attention economy, everything is fighting for a slice of our energy. I, for one, definitely have a fear of getting bored, which leads me to feel like I need to schedule something in for every minute of the day.
It’s like we’re all following some sort of shared societal agenda: to progress, every part of our routine and daily lives must be purposeful.
But we can equally better ourselves without intention. If you’re too busy, you don’t have time to reflect and understand where you’re currently at. If you’re too focused on goals, you can’t listen to what your body is saying. Without free time, you can’t say ‘yes’ to something that could have a bigger impact than smaller micro goals.
At the risk of making my year abroad one of my only personality traits, one of the greatest lessons I learnt is the joy of being unintentional. My friends will tell you best that my Google Calendar is a migraine waiting to happen: time blocking is my secret weapon. But abroad, without the burdening need to get a high mark, I found myself for the first time enjoying having nothing to do.
Similarly, the long university summer holidays have given me the same lesson. They were initially frightening, with the empty days on my calendar not filled by my retail job looking ominously empty. But it taught me one thing – to be excited by the unknown.
As students, we are somewhat trapped in a schedule. Unintentionality allows you to break free, to rediscover what life is like beyond the constant checking of calendars or to-do lists. What happened to a ‘go with the flow’ mentality? When did spontaneity start feeling like failure?
I’ve never felt more stressed than when I was trying to do everything intentionally. It’s the same attitude as: why does every friendship hangout need to be over a coffee? Can we normalise meeting friends when they just need to buy new laundry detergent or collect a parcel from the Post Office?
Maybe that’s the point – we’ve even turned relaxation into an item on a to-do list. Read for 30 minutes, journal before bed, call a friend to nurture social bonds. We’re project-managing our joy.
Some of the best moments in life are born out of absolutely no plan at all: the walk you take because the sky looked pretty, the late-night conversation which was supposed to be a quick catch-up, or the hobby you picked up because it was simply fun and not another line for your CV.
The scariest part is that unintentionality means surrender. Trusting that not every good thing needs to be optimised, tracked, or justified. There doesn’t need to be reasoning behind every experience. Because sometimes the richest ones come from when we stop curating our existence and just exist.
Here’s my case for being unintentional: leave some spaces on your calendar, go on a walk without a destination, say yes to things that don’t fit neatly into a productivity tracker. In a world obsessed with optimisation, being unintentional feels almost rebellious… and honestly, a little bit joyful.
