Photo credit: Jordi Paya Canals / Flickr
Sometimes we write what we most need to read.
The current focus of my own intentional living practice is to carve out time to write every day. After a long creative dry spell, my mind feels a little like the Tin Man at the start of the movie — stiff, creaky, rust showering down in flakes every time I move. Prioritizing daily writing, then, is my way of oiling those hinges, of intentionally moving back toward the thing that makes up the core of me.
Today, though, that intention morphed into a full-on control-monster frenzy. It went something like this:
- “Okay, I need to write a blog post; I am more creative in the morning, so I want to get it done before noon. But I also like having my relaxing morning routine on the weekend, so I’ll plan to write after that.”
- *Keeps one eye obsessively on the clock throughout “relaxing” morning routine so I don’t go over my self-allotted time.*
- “I have to run that errand at 10:30; oh, and the dog needs a good long walk, I should take care of that beforehand so I can focus.”
- * Obsesses over what I’ll write on the entire walk, missing out on connecting and playing with my pup and enjoying the gorgeous fall day.*
- “Crap, back from my errand but now I’m hangry. Should I make some lunch before I write? But then it’ll be the afternoon, and we all know since I’m more creative in the morning, that means I can’t possibly write well after 12pm.”
- *Inhales lunch without even tasting it.*
- “Ugh, it’s 12:30 and I’m just now pulling out my laptop. My writing is clearly going to suck, plus I’m behind on everything else I wanted to do for the rest of the day after I wrote. The day is basically over already.”
- *Immediately pulls out to-do list and calendar for the upcoming week and starts panicking.*
- “I can’t believe I won’t get to X, Y, and Z today after all [remember, this is being said at approximately 1pm — hardly the end of the day]. That puts me behind for the entire week. And look at this calendar — I don’t have time to make it up. The week is basically ruined.”
All this because I did not write 800 words before 12pm.
I had fallen into what I suspect is an all-too-common trap: I had temporarily conflated “living intentionally” with “planning out every minute of my day and executing that plan to perfection.”
In other words, I was overthinking it.
So, are you being intentional or are you just overthinking?
If you find yourself planning out your days in 30-minute allotments and becoming unreasonably upset when any one of those half-hour slots runs over, you might be overthinking.
If having blank space on your calendar or fewer than six things on your daily to-do list makes you feel stressed and unproductive or worse, worthless and like you’re failing at being intentional, you might be overthinking.
If you rush through, zone out of, or otherwise miss out on where you actually are and what you’re actually doing because you’re so focused on what you “have” to do next, you might be overthinking.
True intentional living provides us a sense of spaciousness, not time crunch. It helps us cull our overly aspirational to-do lists, not pressure ourselves to fulfill them and beat ourselves up when we inevitably can’t. It gives us time to rest, recharge, and take care of ourselves; it even, dare I say it, gives us time for unplanned fun. Or hell, at least an unplanned nap once in a while.
Overplanning, overthinking, and rigidity, on the other hand, equate to living a life of control, not a life by design. Ultimately, a life of control stems from one place: fear. Fear that we lack something we need (time, money, resources, talent, etc.). Fear that play and spontaneity mean we aren’t taking our lives seriously enough. Fear that we’re behind, that we’re failing, that we’re not good enough.
Intentional living tells us instead that rest and fun are in themselves important priorities. That sometimes we’re allowed to accomplish just what we can, and not a stitch more. That we do not always have to do it all because at our core, who we are is already enough.
I’m not saying that intentional living will always feel light-hearted and easy — often it involves making difficult choices about what we do and do not want to prioritize and disappointing people when we say no. But it shouldn’t have you popping antacids because you’re so stressed about “doing it wrong.”
I’m also not saying that intentional living means throwing all planning and responsibility to the wind. Obviously, we have things we do truly have to get done, and some people (like parents of young children on a strict eat-diaper change-nap-repeat schedule) do have less flexibility in their days. But if you are looking to craft a more intentional life for yourself, and for your family, be careful not to veer into overscheduling and overplanning every minute of every day.
Give yourself some leeway for unexpected detours and some grace when things don’t go according to your best-laid plans. You might even find that these times give you new insight into your true priorities, rather than just the things you think you “should” be accomplishing.
For me, this meant questioning the absurd belief I somehow came up with that I could only write before 12pm. (I mean, am I some kind of parallel universe Cinderella? Did I expect to turn into a pumpkin if I touched my keyboard at 12:02?). Taking away the time pressure made me feel much more easeful about writing this piece, which in turn made it flow much more easily and enjoyably.
So if you find yourself spinning out like I was this morning, stop and ask yourself, “Am I being intentional or am I just overthinking this? What is my real priority, and what do I truly need to do to support that today? What can I let go of to make more space for that priority?”
Here’s to less of the control monster for all of us, my friends!