Cog in the Machine of My Life

Originally written 6/26/23 (so no, I'm not currently moving)

Sometimes I turn myself into a cog in the machine of my life. I do this by creating a strict action plan for my future. It could be a plan for the next 5 years, tomorrow, 2 hours from now, or 10 minutes from now.

Afraid that I might fall behind or fall short, I start gameplanning the moment that’s just ahead. This is my Planning Brain's version of Future World Creation.

It happened yesterday as I was returning home from a 10-day trip. As I prepped to move out of my current home, the reality was that there was a lot to get done on the packing front.

1. Deciding what sparks joy

2. Discarding the rest

3. Packing boxes full of my remaining belongings

Not a moment to rest!

Attending to all of these to-dos, while also taking care of my everyday tasks like work, eating food, and working out, meant that my upcoming day felt quite overwhelming.

So, as I was on the plane ride back, preparing to land, I told myself that I’d start being productive by formulating a step-by-step action plan for the moment I returned home.

Then, when I did get back, all I'd have to do was simply execute on this strategy.

Fast-forward to the moment I got home...

I began breaking out in mental hives, as I had an allergic reaction to being told what to do (even though the directive came from myself from an hour ago).

I was stuck between the thing I was supposed to do (next on the to-do list) and the thing I was inspired to do (but wasn’t a part of the action plan).

So what'd I do?

I sat on my bed, staring at the list, resenting its existence, while not actually doing anything. Like Jimmy, I was just sittin’ in limbo… while neglecting everything.

I got frustrated by my lack of productivity, until my rage finally transformed into forward motion. But, it wasn't the kind of flow-y productivity that's enjoyable. It was more akin to a strained push where fists are clenched and blinders are up.

Anything that didn't contribute to task completion got labeled a “distraction.”

• I refused to engage with my roommates, even as they gifted me attention asking, “How was your trip?!?”

• I gave robotic replies to service staff, even as they were helping me complete my responsibilities.

• I shut out the world as I lived in my head… because that’s where my to-do list existed.

I was caught in a state of mindless execution, rather than present engagement.

This meant that my task-completing wasn’t the least bit enjoyable.

Even the ones that were being done for enjoyment's sake, like running on the boardwalk or eating a tasty dinner, felt like drab obligations. I was just rushing through them for their utility, so that I could progress to the next action item.

Don’t get me wrong, this method of action, when successfully executed, is incredibly efficient. Clarity on the steps that need to happen. No follow-up decision-making required.

However, I have to be very careful about when I deploy this tactic because if my Future Self disagrees with the previously-approved directive, then it can feel like a grimaced grinding-of-the-gears as I struggle through the execution.

And this grinding-of-the-gears is a surefire signal of misalignment.

Why do I feel the need to do this in the first place?

1. I don't trust my Future Self to make good decisions

2. I don't trust that I'll have enough time to get everything done without a preemptive action plan

1) I don't trust my Future Self to make good decisions

I'm afraid that my Future Self will choose lethargy over productivity. My Past Self is implicitly telling my Future Self:

“You can't be trusted to do what's most important. So, I'm going to decide everything upfront. Then, all you have to do is trust me & execute.”

When I step into that Future Self, this directive stirs an emotional allergic reaction to being controlled:

“Don’t tell me what to do! I can decide for myself!”

Counterintuitively, when my Future Self becomes my Present Self, he will be the best equipped at deciding what to do next. My Past Self, the action plan creator, doesn't have the up-to-date information on energy levels, emotional state, and the happenings of the current environment. If the next item on the list is “go for a run” but my energy levels are low and my legs are sore, then it seems silly to still lace up. I probably created the plan at a time when I was riding a high from caffeine and hadn’t walked miles across the airport.

2) I don't trust that I'll have enough time to get everything done without a preemptive action plan

While in the planning stage, I don't want to admit that I might not get everything done. That's a scary realization to confront. So, while sitting on a plane, unable to do anything while hurling through the air in a tiny tin can, I decide to "be productive" by structuring the action plan. It gives me a feeling of control over the future. Now, all that's required will be perfect execution by my Future Self. (Talk about a heavy burden...)

When has any action plan ever gone perfectly according to plan? (only exception: you’re on the A-Team)

If perfect execution is what's required, then I'm setting my Future Self up for future failure, while ensuring a miserable existence in the present.

I can almost guarantee that I'll be rushing around until my tasks are complete. I can almost guarantee that I'll get internally twisted by any minor disruption, like a flight delay or a stranger striking up a friendly conversation.

All this to say, having an action plan is not a “bad” thing. It guides my attention in a productive way. It helps me align on what needs to be done.

However, the rigidity of the plan is what closes off presence, sucks the enjoyment out of the moment, and ramps up my anxiety as I race through to the finish.

As I mentioned, I rushed through an activity I loved - running on the boardwalk on a sunny afternoon - in order to stay on-time and on-task. Excess structure removed all space for engagement & enjoyment.

I've realized that my perpetual need to be 1 step ahead means that I never actually get to be here.

What's the alternative?

Do the Next, Most Necessary Thing 

And trust that my Future Self will know what that is when he steps into the Present.