For at least two decades, I wanted to become more productive.

Many teachers and books preached the power of becoming consistent.

I wanted to be a person who could be counted on to follow through… So that I could do more, and thus use more of my supposed “potential.”

But as I faced another round of maybe-burnout-maybe-depression, I realized that squeezing my struggling brain for everything it was worth is not the life I’m trying to build.

I’d much prefer to be able to compose something I’m proud of, and still have enough energy to make and enjoy dinner with my partner.

Or to finally get around to reading Dhalgren, a sci-fi novel sitting across from my bed that intimidates me with its sheer physical heft.

I want to live my life, and that includes a lot of puttering and getting my hands dirty.​
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No one who knows me will believe for a second that I’m not driven to create, because there’s a little ideating dynamo inside me that won’t shut up.

I love creative projects that require me to stretch as a person. I love intensity.

But I refuse to abandon myself anymore in the process.

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I used to stack deadlines and then have weeks of working every single evening and weekend.

The worst was when I did that and then ended up not being happy with the final product, because I rushed elements of the process that were asking for spacious time.

I mistook adrenaline for satisfaction.

And it’s NOT the only way to finish things.

Now I think about sustainability for myself across longer spans of time. Because when I’m questioning whether I can get through the next day or three, it’s impossible to see beyond it.

Can I build average days that my brain isn’t trying to escape from?

Can I finish the next ten projects without burnout? With energy left over, even?

On a smaller scale, how will my nervous system feel tomorrow about the choices I make today?

Questions like these, asked gently and held lightly, have changed my life more than any planner ever did.

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Ironically, it’s easier now to do things I care about on all fronts. I’m still getting things done… I’d say fewer total things, but they’re more strategic and meaningful.

The feeling while I’m doing them is radically different.

It’s more relaxed, and the energy has direction instead of just spinning. I don’t feel trapped.

I know this can be hard to imagine if you're in the anxiety-adrenaline approach of constantly pushing yourself (and especially if it feels like the only way to get anything done).

When you're burned out, rest can feel like falling behind.

When the expectations are impossible anyway, self-compassion can feel dangerous, or like you’re giving up.

I don't think either of those things is true anymore, even though I used to feel deeply unsafe at rest. Oh, nervy nervous system!

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I think your day-to-day life should support you.

You as you are right now,

today, no change

or upgrades.

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Support creates a foundation, not perfection. Life is still going to life. Brains are full of surprises. Bodies have their own set of challenges.

But I know it's possible to stop fighting yourself all the time, and understand yourself instead.

That's the future I envision for you.

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enjoy,

Mattia

p.s. If I (not at all creepily) followed you around for a week, what might I think your life is all about?