I’m a productivity geek and a systems gal. Lock me in a Franklin Covey store, give me free access to all the personal planning paraphernalia there, and I’m in heaven.
I am also a certified master of the to-do list. Hand me twenty pages of tasks, projects and agenda items, and I can slice ‘em and dice ‘em any way you please. I’ve done this with my own lists hundreds of times.
My only problem seems to be with doing the stuff on them.
Even as a child, I carried with me a vague sense of unease about all the things I wanted to do but wasn’t getting around to. (How early does Perfectionitis nauseus set in, anyway? Sheesh.)
Then I learned to make lists. At first they were very simple: Homework. Things to Do. Write it down, do it, cross it off.
Ohhh, yes. The flesh-tingling thrill of crossing things off. There’s no high quite like it. The only thing is, it’s kind of like the old joke about the guy who keeps beating his head against the wall because it feels so good when he stops. You have to keep adding to the lists in order to have more items to cross out.
At first this was no problem. As a classic overachiever, I really was able to plow through many, many things quickly and well. I was invariably praised for this, so that pattern was reinforced strongly. Work hard, earn praise, feel worthy. Want more praise and feelings of self-worth? Work harder.
I became a human doing instead of a human being.
Then came the myriad ways to keep track of it all. I’m low-tech by choice, so I don’t go in for all the electronic gadgetry, but my personal planner addiction began the day I discovered existence of the Day Runner almost two decades ago.
No system has worked for me consistently, though. Even when they gently nudge me into methods of prioritization (ABC-123, context lists, or what have you), I’m still overwhelmed by my own lists because I can’t discriminate. I feel that if I think of it, I have to do it, and that I’m perpetually falling behind in a race I can’t win.
Over the past couple of years, an internal war has raged within me between my Inner Drill Sergeant, who sounds like Anthony Robbins on speed, and my slowly-emerging Self-Nurturer, who tells me that if I don’t learn to ease up and take better care myself, I may very well die. (As in, you know, sooner than I’m meant to.)
Lately the war seems to be escalating. I think it’s because my Self-Nurturer is finally starting to make some solid inroads into my consciousness. The Drill Sergeant is feeling seriously threatened. And I’m sitting in between them, trying to broker a peace and convince myself I’m not developing a split personality.
But some helpful realizations have emerged, too. One of the best is . . .
The power of stopping. Really stopping.
Being who I am, I’ve always seen relaxation, meditation, visualization, and other forms of stress release as just more items for the to-do list. Which automatically brings up resistance, because I already have far too much on the list already. (How am I supposed to fit a conscious relaxation session in between getting home from work, feeding the cats, having something for dinner, running that load of laundry I’ve been putting off for two days, taking a walk to get some fresh air and exercise, working on the five small tasks and two major projects I’ve decided I need to take care of tonight, answering a few time-sensitive e-mails, and taking a shower before collapsing into bed so I can wake up to another overwhelming tomorrow?)
When methods of de-stressing become just another series of items to check off my lists, I’ve learned I’m never going to get around to them.
But I’ve discovered that when I allow myself to truly stop—to rest for a while because my body, mind and spirit want it, not because it’s an agenda item to be ticked off—I do experience genuine relief.
It’s a subtle distinction, and I’m not even sure I’m expressing it adequately.
My habitual way feels more like:
“Get home from work—check. Feed cats—check. Go upstairs and sit on bed; close eyes and do creative visualization for 15 minutes—check. Start load of laundry—check.”
My new way, which isn’t a solid habit yet but which I’m achieving more often now, feels like:
“Hi there, cats! Can I hang out with you while you eat? **Scritch, scritch** (((PURRRRRR))). Okay, upstairs. Stretching out on my bed because it was a demanding day at the office . . . ahh, yes. This floating in between awakeness and a slight doze feels wonderful. General sense of time passing, but no looking at the clock. >>>really stopping everything; a feeling of timelessness<<< Mmm, now I feel ready to engage with the world again. Wow! Look—it’s only been 20 minutes! Better go start that laundry . . .”
Gentler, Nicer. More peaceful. When I can actually manage this type of thing.
I’d be lying if I said I’m getting as many things done this way, but you know what? I’m getting all the important things done.
With jottings to myself scratched on sticky notes, more often than with my latest “productivity system.”
Though I did walk past the Franklin Covey store at lunch yesterday . . .
I suspect the war isn’t over yet.
Tags: letting go, lists, overwhelm, systems
But you walked *past* Franklin Covey, you didn’t go in – take the triumph when you earn it!
Stopping to smell the flowers (or scritch the kitties) is definitely a worthwhile (non-)activity. Keep at it!
)
@Stacie Dee – You’re absolutely right. I *did* walk past. Thanks for reminding me of another pattern of mine–it’s hard for me to see what I do actually accomplish.
Let’s hear it for flower-smelling and (especially) kitty-scritching!
I struggle with this myself. I have a large list of things I want to do and am excited about doing them, but also realize that I have to take time out to stop, literally stop for a breather. I made that a to-do for this week and finally got to it just yesterday. It felt great. I actually stopped a couple times (to make up for not stopping earlier in the week!) and came back last night with a stronger, fresher perspective on what I wanted to write. This is a good post. I’m guessing many others struggle with the idea of just stopping for a break, thinking that they are wasting valuable time, when in fact the opposite becomes true with regard to fresh perspective and increased productivity.
So, do you think if I fall asleep sitting at my computer reading email in the middle of the day it might mean I am doing too much? No issues here or anything……
@John – Yes, it’s almost worse when you’re *excited* about all the things you’re doing, isn’t it? Much easier to take breaks when you’re almost looking for excuses to…
Also, I agree that people tend to think they’re wating valuable time by resting. That’s one of the myths I intend to keep trying to debunk here on this blog.
@Christine – Erm . . . yeah, it MIGHT mean that. ;o)
I loved the way you talked about the inner dynamics here, and how that shifted for you.
A lot of people talk about slowing down and doing less, but the inner stuff seems to be missing from the discussion. And that’s where I usually get tripped up.
It’s not that I don’t get that doing less is a great idea. I just keep stumbling over the inner bits that keep pushing for moremoremore. So this was really helpful. Thank you!
Awesome post.
@Fabeku – Ahh, yes. It’s so easy to say things like, “Just slow down and relax,” but in my experience, there are pretty much always internal obstacles to that which don’t get acknowledged.
I’m beginning to see how much you have to break things down to see exatly where the problems are. The tough thing is that you often need to be super-aware and look very closely indeed to figure out exactly what’s tripping you up. The good thing is that once you do, the solutions can be extremely simple.
Like moving a CD player to the side of the room near your bed so you can listen to soothing music or sounds easily. Or getting a teeny notebook for jotting down thoughts on the fly so you can mentally relax knowing you’ve captured them.
Thanks for your comment!
Do you have a spot on your list for play? Hanging out with the cats is close although it seems perhaps skewed toward that precious “time to do nothing” we all need…. Anyway, lists (the longer the list the more to do the longer it gets before I’ve finished the first round, is that frustrating or what?) make me rebel. Why is that?
@Barbara – That’s an interesting question. (Well, both of them are, but I’m starting with your first one about play.) That, for me, has been similar to things like relaxation and visualization in the past…things I schedule in because I “should.” Not the best way to be spontaneous, is it?
So I’ve tried doing something similar with play lately. Not so much scheduling it in, which would just feel like more regimentation, but stopping and asking myself in the moment, “What would I like to do for fun right now?”
The scary thing to me is how often I honestly don’t have an answer. Am I really that out of touch with my own childlike spontaneity?
As far as why you (we? I’d bet it’s a pretty inclusive “we”) rebel at lists? For me, it’s that same feeling of regimentation. On the one hand, I know I’ll feel better if X, Y and Z get done. On the other, even though I’ve created the list I then give it external authority over me, and find myself yelling back at it–”DON’T tell me what to do!!!!!”
Hmm. I think you’ve just given me a good idea for a new blog post. Thanks! ;o)
We’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – I think we were twin souls separated and sent to live around the world from each other.
When I read your crowded list with “conscious relaxation” stuffed in, I laughed – you know, that kind of freaked out, breathless laugh
My body checked me hard this week. So hard I had no option but to totally stop and lie in bed, usually in semi-darkness, not doing a thing.
Interesting to observe how incredibly hard that was for me, and to see what thoughts and perspectives arose in the space it created.
@Rebecca–Oh yes, I know that freaked-out, breathless laugh very well. ;o)
And good for you! I’m sorry you had to get to the point where your own body forced you to stop, but sometimes we push ourselves so hard that that’s what it takes to get our own attention. But instead of just collapsing into unconsciousness, you really listened to what your body was telling you and observed your own feelings and reactions.
Yeah, it *is* hard. But you stayed awake and aware during the hard. Keep doing that, as often as you can (but *gently,* without making THAT into yet another must-do), and you’re on your way to a place of more clarity and more choices for yourself.
Well done! You inspire me.