If there’s one universal truth I’ve discovered in the course of endeavoring to do more, it’s this: there is always more to do. No matter how productive a day, a week, a month, or even a year may be, you can always take things further, accomplish more, set things up for the next go-round. It’s absolutely, positively maddening. It’d be much easier to simply do nothing, and avoid experiencing the feeling of inadequacy so acutely.
For about a month, I had a job selling ad space in a magazine I was writing for. The thing I truly hated about the job was the fact that I could always be doing it. Nights. Weekends. Whenever. I could be researching businesses that would be a good fit for the magazine, seeking out their contact information, and writing or calling them to get the ball rolling.
I had this job during college, and I went to college just before the internet and its cloud evolved to the point where you could work anytime, anywhere. So this nagging sensation that accompanied not working—no matter the time of day or night—was new. And infuriating. I looked at my roommate, a journalism major and a fairly prolific writer for our college newspaper, with some combination of awe and horror; this was his life, constantly following up leads, researching stories, trying to schedule interviews, and running off at odd times to conduct interviews. I much preferred leaving my work at work.
Funny, now, that I’ve decided to give writing a go. This is truly a job that can be done anytime, anywhere. I don’t even have to worry about missing someone’s business hours, or it being too late or too early to call a person. Whether it’s personal writing or freelance work, I can be writing at any and all times. And of course, there is always more that can be done.
But while there is always more, there is such a thing as “enough.” Which is a tough concept to grasp. I have a perpetual desire to catch up on all the time I believe I’ve squandered—instantaneously. Let’s work out ridiculously hard for a week and lose all the weight I’ve been meaning to for the past year. Let’s write like a coked-up crazy person this month and finish a movie script, a graphic novel, and, oh hell, maybe even the first few chapters of a book.
One of the secrets to success lies in knowing when to stop berating yourself for not being good enough, or fast enough, or productive enough, pat yourself on the back, and go the hell to bed. Not doing that too late (It’s two in the morning and I stopped being productive 3 hours ago) or too soon (That’s a great sentence; I deserve a loooong break!) is something I believe comes with time, experience, and an honest understanding of your own capabilities and limitations. With a seemingly unending cycle of overestimating and underestimating my own abilities, this sweet spot has so far proved elusive.
But knowing when to stop is only one of the challenges presented by the never-ending deluge of more. Knowing when to start is the other challenge. But I’ll save that for next week with Part 2: The Temptation of Productive Procrastination.
For this week, this is enough.