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We Are Overthinking EVERYTHING

In: Productive Mother

We’ve all got these really exhausting mental scripts we tell ourselves.

For example, earlier today I was telling myself I was going to exercise, but then I told myself that, well, maybe notttttt, because I had something heavy for lunccchhhh, so I probably wouldn’t have the energggggy, and then it'd be harder than usuaaaal, and then I’d hate every minute of ittttt, and then I’d be reminded of how much I succccck, and then it might discourage meeeeee, and then and then and then and then and then and then and THEN…

Oh for the love of vodka, could we just shut the fuck up, already?


Not just me: all of us, every day, and especially when it comes to things like jobs and careers and businesses and decisions and all the future what ifs?????????????

Do you know how exhausting it is to overanalyze every single move you make?

I touched on this in my last post, this idea that sometimes it’s nice to just go through the motions without having to think anything more about it. Imagine how freeing that might feel? To decide to do something, anything, and then simply do it on autopilot—without having to always have the ultimate say? And control every little aspect? And contemplate and stew and hem and haw and debate and change your mind?

We're always trying to do everything we can to avoid the drudgery of routine, but maybe sometimes we need it. Maybe sometimes we do just need to show up at the same time, to the same place, and do the same thing, over and over and over again. It’s not the routine itself that makes something dreadful; it’s the activity. There’s a difference between spending your time in vain and spending it building something that matters to you.

So what if you just showed up at 2 o’clock in the afternoon every day, rain or funeral, and did the thing?

What if there were no more excuses, because there was no more thinking about it?

What if you didn’t have a choice, anymore?

I bet you could build a lot in twenty minutes a day.

But most of us won’t try, because there’s always a thousand reasons why not.




P.S. I worked out after all.

P.P.S. Up there I originally had a typo that read, “…and then I'd be harder than usuaaaal,” and I am so very glad I caught it because I just about died laughing except you would have thought I was a total creep.
P.P.P.S. I am a total creep. One who is soon to be leaf creeping in New England YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.
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