If you consider yourself a “doer,” Reader, who is always racing the clock, you might think the answer to all your problems is optimization. Life hacks. A time management system so effective it will finally let you do it all. I’ve both bought into and sold the idea that you can do every little thing your heart desires if only you organize, streamline and discipline yourself enough. The problem with optimization, however, is that the more time you manage to free up, the longer the list gets of what needs doing. The more focused you become on optimizing your time, the less likely you are to relax and simply let time unfold. And it doesn’t help that the gurus on Insta say you should create content daily and repurpose it 74 times for every social media platform that exists—or else perish in an entrepreneurial dumpster fire. Do more is hustle culture’s mantra. The low-grade perma-anxiety it gives us is the energy that capitalism feeds on. Our quest to be more productive because that’s what ambitious people do has become toxic. And it’s burning us out. In response, I’d like to propose something counterintuitive. Quit the hacks, delete your habit tracker and throw out your morning routines. To do this, you will have to change your mindset. And for a high achiever, this will feel uncomfortable. It might even make you squirm. That’s the point. Escaping toxic productivity isn’t about finding new ways to squeeze more out of yourself. It’s about confronting some brutal truths that your enterprising brain would rather ignore. Let’s unpack them. Your To-Do List Will Never be DoneAs a Type A, overachieving multipotentialite, I’m the poster child for biting off more than I can chew. As of this writing, my task manager lists 308 tasks. My habit tracker? 30 habits. And my morning routine—which, let’s be real, could take the entire day—has 20 action items. So how’s it working out? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Here’s what I’ve come to realize. That sense of peace I think I’ll have once I manage to wrangle this Dr. Seussian tower of (largely self-imposed) obligations? It’s not coming. Thinking we can gain mastery over time via our To-Do lists is an attempt to avoid the helplessness that comes from realizing we can’t. We think if we refuse to acknowledge that tough choices have to be made about how we spend our time, we can escape feeling the pain of our limitations. The solution, I’ve discovered, is to laugh at ourselves (see above) and then stop trying to win. It’s a recipe for disappointment, and letting ourselves down every day of our lives is bad for morale. After letting go of your aspirations to dominate your To-Do list, I think you’ll find it feels strangely peaceful. When you finally accept that your goal is impossible, it’s hard to keep beating yourself up for failing at it. Take me to the other four truths... |
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A few years ago, my best friend moved to California’s Central Valley, to a rural neighborhood where three farms intersect. One of the neighbors has a rooster named Beethoven. It seems Beethoven was not there the day God handed out operating instructions. He definitely doesn't understand the assignment. In Beethoven's case, the rooster does not crow at midnight OR at dawn, which are the only two times a day a rooster is legally allowed to crow. Beethoven’s preferred business hours are any time...
I have to start taking care of myself before I burst into flames. I recently posted a note about how it feels impossible to function right now as an empath, and that 👆🏼👆🏼 was one of the comments I received. It’s how I knew I needed to write this article. This is not a post about politics. I write about designing a life and business you’re excited to wake up to every day. But it’s also not NOT about politics. Because I wouldn’t be writing this if we weren’t living in a chaotic stew of whirling...
Dearest Reader, Every morning, my cat, Hecate, and I engage in what can only be called aggressive petting. I whip out a brush that sprays mist (who would’ve ever thought a cat would ASK for this?), and she basically shouts at me the entire time she runs to and leaps upon the topmost shelf of her kitty condo. Whereupon she spends the next three minutes flopping about like a blissful walrus, chattering constantly, arrrrrrrching into the brush strokes and bonking the device so vigorously she...