In Pursuit of Procrastination

On Resets

There's an itching in my chest. I look around and see a few stray dishes, a door handles worth of medium-dirty clothing, and a thin layer of dust.

This must be the cause. The itchiness spreads from my chest to my fingertips, tracing the length of my arm. The sensation announces: I'm here! I plan on going everywhere.

And so, I grab my broom, bucket, mop, and duster. I get to work.

I start in my bedroom. I dust off and rearrange the books on my nightstand that I keep saying I'll read. My hope is that these touches will be enough

The itchiness is still spreading, so I move on to the bathroom. I think about how ironic that the room that keeps me clean needs me to clean it.

Once I clean the sink, the toilet, the shower, the floors, the itchiness begins to subside. The scent of cleaning products permeating the air seems to be the cure.

It's time to tackle the kitchen.

And that's when the realisation hits me.

The itchiness. The cleaning.

This is the feeling of "before I can, I must".

Before I can rest, I must have the perfect bedroom to rest in. Before I can eat, I must have the perfect kitchen to cook in. Before I can achieve my goals or even attempt to, I must become a version of myself ready for those achievements.

This is procrastination. I am the mouse, and I have been given a cookie. I have spiralled looking for milk; I have spiralled looking for a straw.

On Resolutions

As I have been preparing for a new quarter of a new year, I have found myself doubly procrastinating.

On the surface, you'll see reflective journal entries, a curated list of goals, beautifully laid out action steps, and a colour-coded Asana calendar.

But if you look for too long, you'll see something less encouraging.

You'll find insecurity wrapped up in the disguise of strategic planning.

You'll see me talking about the work but not doing the work. You'll find 15 articles that I said I would write last month, but simply didn't. You'll find dozens of scripted videos that I've been too scared to film. You'll find insecurity wrapped up in the disguise of strategic planning.

There is little in this life that is more satisfying than ticking off a daily to-do list, or marking a long-term goal as complete. Unfortunately for me, making the lists is also quite a satisfying activity.

In response to my pension for getting stuck in a never-ending cycle of seasonal resets and planning sessions, I have decided to plug into community accountability.

I have joined a daily writing group, and now have my first-ever business mentor.

My hope is that in allowing myself to be seen in progress, I will encourage myself to continue to be in-progress.

The goal is not to show up perfectly. (Though if I could somehow manage that, I would be quite pleased.) The goal is to show up.

There will likely still be an itchiness in my chest and all over my arms. But I'm hoping that with time, I will grow more comfortable with this feeling. This feeling of unreadiness and deep awareness of my imperfections. Maybe one day I will even welcome the discomfort.

My hope is that even if the itchiness does not ever become enjoyable that the act of doing will at least show itself to be worth it.

Today is Day 1 of writing 600 words a day.

The process has felt cumbersome and awkward. I know I have been stretched. In 6 days, in 20, if nothing else, I hope my writing is better in every subjective way possible.

Until tomorrow.