When enjoyment requires a calendar, it’s already slipping away. This observation, originally made in a Dutch regional column, touches on a growing global tension: the paradox of seeking pleasure in an age of relentless optimization. From weekend getaways booked months in advance to mindfulness apps tracking our breaths, the particularly act of savoring life has become another item on the to-do list. But what happens when the pursuit of joy turns into just another task?
The phrase “Als je genieten moet plannen, begint het al te verpieteren” — loosely translated as “If you have to plan enjoyment, it’s already starting to deteriorate” — captures a quiet unease many feel in modern life. It suggests that spontaneity, once the hallmark of authentic pleasure, is being eroded by the need to schedule, measure, and justify even our downtime. This isn’t merely about laziness or resistance to structure; it’s about whether we’re losing the ability to simply be present.
Research increasingly supports this intuition. A 2023 study published in the Journal of Positive Psychology found that individuals who reported high levels of “time pressure” during leisure activities also reported lower levels of genuine enjoyment, even when engaging in traditionally pleasurable pursuits like hiking, dining out, or spending time with friends. The researchers concluded that the mental burden of fitting leisure into a packed schedule can undermine its restorative value.
This phenomenon is especially pronounced in cultures that equate busyness with worth. In the United States, for example, the average worker receives just 10 days of paid vacation per year — and leaves nearly a third of those days unused, according to data from the U.S. Travel Association. Many cite workload, guilt, or the belief that taking time off will harm their career prospects. Yet, neuroscience shows that unstructured downtime is critical for creativity, memory consolidation, and emotional regulation.
“We’ve turned leisure into a productivity project,” says Dr. Cassie Holmes, a professor at UCLA’s Anderson School of Management who studies time use and happiness. “When we schedule joy like a meeting, we’re not really disconnecting — we’re just changing the venue of our performance mindset.” Her research indicates that people who protect unscheduled time in their week report higher life satisfaction, not because they do more fun things, but because they experience them more fully.
The rise of digital tools has amplified this trend. Calendar apps now encourage users to block out “self-care” or “fun” time, often color-coded alongside operate deadlines and doctor’s appointments. While intended to prioritize well-being, this approach can backfire. A 2022 survey by the American Psychological Association found that 41% of adults felt guilty when taking unplanned breaks, and 29% said they struggled to relax unless they felt they had “earned” it through prior productivity.
This mindset extends beyond individuals to how we design experiences. Theme parks sell timed-entry passes to reduce wait times, but visitors report feeling rushed. Restaurants offer reservation systems that eliminate spontaneity but increase anxiety about punctuality. Even nature retreats now come with itineraries, guided meditations, and post-trip wellness assessments. The boundary between restoration and obligation continues to blur.
Yet there are signs of a cultural pushback. The “slow living” movement, which emphasizes presence over productivity, has gained traction globally. In Italy, the concept of dolce far niente — the sweetness of doing nothing — remains a cultural touchstone. In Sweden, lagom (just the right amount) encourages balance rather than maximization. These philosophies aren’t about rejecting planning altogether, but about reclaiming moments that resist scheduling.
Practical steps can help restore spontaneity without abandoning responsibility. Experts recommend “time blocking” for obligations while leaving deliberate gaps in the day — what Holmes calls “white space.” These unassigned periods allow for curiosity-driven activities: a long walk without a destination, a conversation that runs late, or simply sitting with a cup of tea and watching the light change. The key is not to fill them, but to protect them.
Another approach is to revisit leisure through the lens of intrinsic motivation. Psychologists distinguish between activities done for external rewards (e.g., posting a vacation photo for likes) and those pursued for internal satisfaction (e.g., painting because it feels meaningful). When enjoyment becomes instrumental — a means to recharge for more work — it loses its restorative power. Reconnecting with why we enjoy something, independent of outcomes, can revive its authenticity.
the tension between planning and presence reflects a deeper question: What kind of life are we optimizing for? If every moment must be justified, measured, or shared, then even joy becomes a performance. But if we allow space for the unplanned, the inefficient, the simply pleasant — then we open the door to experiences that renew us not because they’re useful, but because they remind us what it feels like to be alive.
As the pace of life continues to accelerate, the ability to protect unstructured time may become one of the most valuable skills we cultivate. Not because it leads to greater achievement, but because it preserves our capacity to feel delight without justification — to enjoy, simply because we can.
For readers interested in exploring this balance further, resources such as the American Psychological Association’s guide to work-life balance and National Institute of Mental Health’s materials on stress and recovery offer evidence-based strategies for reclaiming mental space. Meanwhile, ongoing research into leisure and well-being continues to evolve, with new findings expected from longitudinal studies in Europe and North America over the next 12–18 months.