Tag: introspection

  • productivity guilt and analysis paralysis

    productivity guilt and analysis paralysis

    I’m writing this in the middle of a rut. I don’t have a grand solution or a five-step framework, so if that’s what you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. What I do have is a mess of thoughts about a feeling that’s been bothering me for a while, the mix of productivity guilt and analysis paralysis.

    I have an ever-growing list of things I want to accomplish. Some of them are big, long-term life milestones I don’t expect for years: marriage, buying a home, having kids. Normal “future adult” stuff.

    Then there’s the mid-term list, the dreams I want for myself over the next few years: travelling more, living abroad for half a year, starting a business, getting good at a sport I love.

    And finally, there’s the short-term list. The one that’s supposed to build my skills and discipline so those medium-term dreams can happen. Unfortunately, this is the list that’s slowly killing me. It includes things like learning a language, improving my knitting, reading a book a week, practising photography, going to the gym, getting better at upholstery… and more. All while working a 9 – 5 and commuting to spend time with my boyfriend.

    The real issue is that my brain refuses to just start something. I can’t simply “go to the gym” – I have to create a mini-roadmap beforehand. Same with any goal: I need to break everything down into subtasks before I take step one. And when I don’t, it leaves me anxious and aimless.

    My social life has absolutely taken a hit. I used to be out all the time in 2024, and now the idea of going out for even one drink makes me feel guilty about all the things I’m not doing. After Googling my symptoms (never a good idea), I found out other people feel this too. ‘Productivity guilt’ and ‘analysis paralysis’ seem to be the popular labels.

    I also recognise how privileged I am to even have this problem. I have the basics and more, which grounds me when I start spiralling. It reminds me of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs – this whole struggle seems to live right at that top section: self-actualisation.

    Part of me wonders whether I should just be content with where I am. But that feels dishonest, because I know what I want out of life. So maybe the issue isn’t the list – maybe it’s the timeline. I want everything at once. I want it now. And life doesn’t work like that. Even if I did achieve everything, I’d probably just find more: archery, pottery, something new. Appetite grows more with eating.

    So maybe the real antidote to this guilt is perspective. I invite you to ask yourself:

    • Am I in a stable and fortunate position right now?
    • Will it still be okay if these goals take longer than I’d hoped?
    • Am I putting pressure on myself that no one else is expecting from me?
    • Do some of these goals matter less than the urgency I’ve attached to them?

    If any of those answers are “no,” then honestly, ignore this entire post and chase your goals however you need to.

    But if you answered “yes,” then you might be like me. And people like us need gratitude. We need to relax. We need to accept that progress will happen, just not all at once. We need to let go of the guilt long enough to smell a flower or two and make room for a version of ourselves that isn’t powered by shame.

    Because every time I really sit with this feeling, I remember that pushing harder rarely makes me more productive. I do my best work when I’m relaxed, confident, and grounded. Creativity doesn’t grow out of guilt or anxiety – it grows from space, rest, and curiosity.

    So, I take back what I said at the beginning: maybe there is a solution. We need to be gentler with ourselves. When these feelings show up, instead of suppressing them, we should acknowledge them. Listen to your mind when it says, “this is too much,” and follow what feels right in your gut rather than what your hyper-logical self insists you should be doing.

  • jack of all trades, master of none

    jack of all trades, master of none

    When I was 17 and dating my first boyfriend, he described me as a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’. I’m not really great with idioms (and also just a bit thick) so I wasn’t sure what he meant.

    When he explained it I was offended. “What do you mean?” I said, “I’m good at… maths”. Yikes. The truth is, I wasn’t even that good at maths, maybe 6th in my class at best but it was my strongest subject. Besides that, I didn’t really have any hobbies that I could say I was remotely good at.

    Before it got to A-Level picking season, I already knew what I was going to pick. Not because I so deeply loved the subjects but because my mum made it clear that picking STEM subjects is the only way to guarantee a successful career and so I studied Maths, Further Maths and Economics.

    After Sixth Form I headed to Uni to study Economics – the same subject my mum studied. My mum would argue that she didn’t hold a knife over my head so I studied it on my own accord, but I think a lookback at our conversations from my childhood would suggest there was definitely some level of influence.

    Now, I can’t sit here as an adult (even though I still live at home) and blame my mother for studying subjects and ending up in career that is most likely not my passion. I admit that I am now in charge of my own life trajectory, and I should follow my wildest dreams. But damn – first boyfriend was right. I’m not good at any one thing.

    Now you might say, “you don’t have to be good at whatever your wildest dream is, just make a start”. But to that I would say, my dream is to live on a farm with a vegetable patch and greenhouse, with wooden interior and maybe even some stained glass. Funnily enough, I had a conversation with a colleague at my first job, and she asked me what my dream was. My response was along the same lines of what I just described to which she said – “you have no work ethic”. Fairs. I just really don’t want to hike up this damn career ladder.

    It’s quite easy for your dream to get crushed when the average price of a house in the UK is £300k and you’re working a £30k job. And that’s not even taking into account the fact that the £300k house wouldn’t be the farm I’m dreaming of.

    Capitalism starts with the specialisation of labour and I’m just not sure whether I want or even can narrow my efforts down to one niche skill in this world. I want to know how to do lots of things! My headlight broke the other week, so in a few days’ time I will be going to QuickFit to ask the lovely workers to teach me how to install some new ones. I’ve recently started learning upholstery because new furniture is goddamn expensive so I’d like to know how to up-cycle chairs. My mum and I used to grow vegetables in our garden; this is definitely something I’d like to do again to have my own supply of food.

    The point is, we are far too reliant on everyone else to do things for us. My boyfriend once said something that I still think about often. He said: if you strip every one of their clothes and put them in a line, how many could demonstrate their worth based solely on their skills?

    Maybe being a jack of all trades isn’t a weakness. It’s curiosity and adaptability. I’m figuring out what I want to do with my life. For me, I believe real freedom will come from avoiding specialisation, and some how (although I haven’t yet figured how) I will make it work.