Back in May, when Dad was dying and I wasn’t coping, I had a belated epiphany.
It was Monday, the day I liked to get the most work done. I was wrapping up a particularly productive session and contemplating my next move. I could continue working—I knew I had a few hours left in me—or stop and go for a sweaty walk across town to a cacao café I’d been meaning to check out.
The thought came unbidden: Stop before you need to.
I went on the walk.
My superpower
My whole life, I’d prided myself on productivity. I aspired to do the best work, the most work—always better, always more. And I usually did. So that everywhere I worked, I was the fastest, the most detail-oriented, the “reliable one.”
That external validation cemented aspiration into reality. Week after week, I tore through my tasks until my brain became mush. And called that normal.
Even after Dad got sick, I would push until I broke down, take a step back and call that rest, then get back on the productivity ride. Until that humid Monday when I finally recognised my limits. Emotionally depleted and mentally strained after years of processing Dad’s protracted death, I was in no state to prize productivity above all else.
My superpower was no longer unrivalled productivity—it was stopping before I needed to.
Three months later—a span that included meeting my boss in person for the first time after fangirling him for five years, Dad dying the next day, two life-changing concerts, weeks of stressing over delegating so I could go on holiday, and too much traveling—I’d say this superpower has served me well.
Brain mush is no longer my default. I still get tired, feel overwhelmed, catastrophise. But I haven’t broken down since November.
I call that progress.
Stop before you need to
With Dad gone and my “brainwidth” restored, I’ve been wondering whether to retire my superpower and return to the “always better, always more” of yore.
I’ve decided not to.
Though I’m no longer weighed down by Dad’s years-long battle with cancer, I am feeling the after-effects of his recent death. Though my routine is no longer disrupted by travel, I am revamping it to include more physical activity and rest. Though I am getting comfortable as Mark’s Newsletter Manager, I am being entrusted with new responsibilities I have yet to master.
No matter what’s going on in our lives, there’s always something weighing us down. Maybe your parents complain you don’t visit enough. Or your boss isn’t happy with that one report. Or perhaps your partner wants to eat out when all you feel capable of is collapsing on the couch.
Even when there is no “problem” in your life, there are myriad stresses, worries, frustrations draining your mental, emotional, often physical energy.
Our energy is limited, and the only way I’ve found—too late—to operate within its limits is not to routinely exceed them, but to stop before you reach them.
This applies not only to work. For me, this means fewer meet-ups than I have time for. Making my fourth workout of the week optional. Taking a random day off after a product launch. Setting only one weekly intention.
Where before I aspired to always do better, do more—now my aspiration is to accept my limits, stop before I need to.
A healthier, and far more realistic, goal.
What do you think?
What about you?
Do you stop before you need to?
In what ways are you routinely exceeding your limits? Was reading this a revelation or a “duh, obviously”? Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this post with someone who could use more brainwidth.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val