Circuit breaks

Last night I was up late working on a project for work. Nobody made me do it, so no—don't worry, I won't be blinking twice.

I really wanted to solve a particular problem, and I went at it all day, from dawn till dusk.

Every now and then, this happens, you focus on a task to the exclusion of nearly all else.

But at some point, you have to sleep. And for me, the debt came due. Also, I'm still waking up at 4am as a result of traveling back from Europe.

I went to sleep last night worn out and frustrated with my progress. Then a funny thing happened. I woke up, again super early (blasted jet lag), and turned back to the problem. An immediate solution came to mind. I spent a few minutes playing with a concept and realized it was directionally correct.

Wild how that can happen. You churn endlessly, myopically determined to make something work no matter what—when just stepping back can solve the problem.

I know this, of course. I've been through this many times before and preached about the value of rest, taking breaks, and seeing things from a new perspective. But I got caught up in the self-induced frenzy.

It's fascinating to find that balance between pushing hard and stepping back—between a culture that praises exhaustion and work without end and an antithesis that suggests peace, rest, and recovery.

Creativity does not answer to a timer or to an exact amount of energy. It does demand that you care, that you try, that you learn and grow and push yourself, that you endeavor and struggle and sweat through the details. But merely throwing effort against all odds—and against the health of your own body and the time of those you hold dear—that's not how creativity works. Or, if it is, I'm not interested.

Thinking back on this week—a week back at work after a few weeks of vacation—it's interesting to consider the tradeoffs. I've been excited to get back into my projects and to focus and work through them. But the results aren't guaranteed based on hours spent. If that were the case, I'd have been far more successful long ago.

That's where I appreciate the importance of taking the weekend off. No matter how hard you work, having a circuit break to cut into your work—just as sleeping does for the day—is essential to being able to play this game year after year.

So, why didn't I stop? Why did I keep going for a dozen hours yesterday when I could have just called it quits far earlier in the day? I've been thinking about that this morning, and I believe it comes down to anxiety. I want to finish this project. I want to make it useful and helpful for the goals we're trying to accomplish—again, self-induced; I'm not being forced here—and when I'm in the weeds of it, I just imagine that a little more time, a little more effort, will make it work. And in the middle of that, I can't imagine stopping. I can't imagine being able to turn it off and enjoy the evening or a good night's sleep without meeting my goal first; it's always just a few inches away. And that's where I'm trying to square this puzzle. I didn't meet the goal anyway, but I came away more tired.

I really wish I could solve that preemptively going forward.

So, if you're like me and trying to accomplish great work, trying to build something that you care about, just know that the body has a limit and needs recovery.

The next time I'm at this point, I need to figure out a way to tell myself it will be ok to stop, tell myself that a break is a good thing, and that the problem can wait till tomorrow.

Going back to yesterday's post, the reason all this matters is because you matter. Yes, we want to create things of value. Yes, many of us have aspirations for something greater. But we can't push ourselves past our limits. We can't go on without end. Our bodies, our personal lives, and our loved ones will suffer if we're unavailable and doggedly laser focused on a single idea, a single task. Therein lies madness.

So, despite my recovering workaholic status and the fact that, decades in, I'm sometimes working harder than I imagined possible, I'm grateful for the weekend, for the time I'll be taking off tomorrow, and for spending it with friends and family.

Here's to my next circuit break.

(Written from my X4 Pro)