When I get caught up

Maybe there is no “caught up.” Maybe there’s just faithfully doing the work. (Image by Alexa)

I thought I was so busy this spring.

I was serving as the executive director of a tiny school and head coach of two different online workshops. I was working with a few clients and writing regularly. Plus, I had a long commute.

I would regularly work weekends in order to get a little ahead and reduce stress for the week ahead. Thus, I managed to have time for tennis most evenings and had a decent social life as well.

Now, the school is closed. I have no commute. I’m only coaching one online workshop.

And I find myself busier than ever. Despite working weekends, there is no getting ahead. There is only falling farther behind.

When I tally up the estimated time it will take me to do each task, I discover that there just isn’t enough time to do all of the things that I’ve set out to do — not in five days, and not even in seven.

This is a new one. In the past, I’ve believed that I just need to be more focused, more organized, more dedicated. But apparently, that is not the case.

What I need to do is stop doing some of the things I’m doing, or do some things differently.

This mirrors a pattern I see with so many clients. Often, they jump to the conclusion that they are the problem. They figure that they’re not trying hard enough or working hard enough. One hundred percent of the time, this admirable self-accountability obscures the true problem and prevents them from fixing it.

In order to move on from my current situation, I might need more support and better tools. I might need to reevaluate the services I offer and change their structure and pricing.

I must systematically question every assumption I can identify. The mother of them all is the notion that I can work harder or longer to fix this. I probably can’t.

These changes probably don’t need to be forever. I am launching new things, which takes more effort than sustaining them. I am trying experiments, not all of which are efficient investments of time.

And I tend to need more sleep in the fall and winter than I do in the spring and summer — so there goes two hours a day right there.

Now, to change. To rearrange my schedule and adjust my expectations. To reconsider of some of the things I’ve been doing and either hand them off to someone else or drop them completely. To acknowledge my limitations. To do things differently. It’s so harddddddduuuuh!

But a world in which I don’t feel constantly chased by an invisible enemy? In which I actually get through my stupid to-do list in a given day? Probably worth it.

I don’t know how I made three TikToks a day all summer. These days, I can’t even manage one. But if that changed so quickly, it can change again. None of this is permanent.

The point isn’t even the changes that I make. It’s the questioning and challenging. This is a growth opportunity. Like most growth opportunities, it’s uncomfortable. It may not look like much from the outside. And it might take awhile for it to yield any result. It’s still worth doing for what I learn about myself.

I’m not going to get caught up. I’m going to let go. My identity is linked to the work I’m doing, and I need to embrace the challenge of un-linking it. Then, I will have greater flexibility, more choices, and more possibilities.