Every Sunday, I take inventory. What worked. What did not. What I am adjusting for the week ahead.
This is not performance. This is not content creation dressed up as reflection. This is processing. A way to close the loop on one week before starting another. A way to extract the lessons before they fade into the blur of everything else that demands attention.
The weeks that do not get examined become weeks that do not teach anything. The lessons are there, hiding in the details of what happened, but they stay buried under the next round of demands. This practice forces the extraction. It makes the implicit explicit. It turns experience into insight.
I have been doing this for long enough now that the pattern is clear: the weeks I reflect on are the weeks that change me. The weeks I skip become background noise. Just time that passed without leaving much behind.
This week taught me three things I did not expect to learn. Three lessons that showed up uninvited but necessary.
1. The Fastest Path Forward Is Usually Through, Not Around
I have been avoiding a conversation for three weeks.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing that would make for good television. Just one of those conversations where I knew what needed to be said but kept finding reasons to delay. Next week would be better. After the holidays would be more appropriate. When the timing is right. When I have more clarity. When they are in a better headspace to hear it.
The excuses were creative. I will give myself that. Each one sounded reasonable in the moment. Each one allowed me to feel like I was being strategic rather than avoidant. Like I was waiting for the right moment rather than running from discomfort.
But let me tell you something I keep learning and keep forgetting: the timing is never better. That is the thing about hard conversations. There is no perfect moment. There is no window that opens where both people are perfectly prepared and the words will land exactly right and no one will feel uncomfortable.
There is just the moment you finally decide to stop postponing discomfort. The moment you choose temporary awkwardness over extended avoidance. The moment you decide that the cost of waiting has exceeded the cost of acting.
I had the conversation Thursday. It took eleven minutes. Eleven minutes. Three weeks of mental energy spent avoiding something that took less time than my morning coffee ritual. Three weeks of carrying weight that could have been set down immediately.
And the weight I had been carrying for three weeks disappeared the moment the words were out. Not because the other person reacted perfectly. They did not. There was some tension. Some pushback. Some things that needed to be worked through. The conversation was not smooth or easy.
But the weight of carrying the unsaid thing? Gone. Immediately. Like setting down a backpack I had forgotten I was wearing. Like releasing a breath I did not know I was holding.
Here is what I learned, again, because apparently I need to learn this repeatedly: avoidance is not neutral. It costs something. Mental energy spent thinking about the thing you are not doing. Background anxiety humming constantly like a noise you stop noticing but that still drains you. A relationship that subtly deteriorates while you wait for the mythical right moment.
The cost of avoidance almost always exceeds the cost of the conversation itself. The interest compounds daily. The longer you wait, the more expensive the delay becomes. What starts as a small hesitation becomes a significant burden.
I spent more mental energy avoiding this conversation than I would have spent having it ten times over. That math does not work. That is not strategic. That is just fear running the show.
Not always. Some things genuinely need time. Some situations benefit from patience. Some conversations require waiting for the right conditions. But most of the time, when I am honest with myself, I am not waiting for the right moment. I am just afraid of discomfort.
And the discomfort of avoidance is usually worse than the discomfort of action. It just stretches out longer, so it feels more manageable. But the total cost is higher. The accumulated weight is heavier.
The path forward is through. Not around. Through. This keeps proving itself true.
2. Systems Beat Intentions Every Single Time
I intended to exercise every day this week.
I exercised twice.
The gap between intention and execution is not about willpower. I know this. I teach this. I have written about this more times than I can count. And yet I still fall into the trap of thinking motivation will carry me where I want to go.
It will not. It never does. Not reliably. Not consistently. Not when it actually matters.
Motivation is unreliable. It shows up when conditions are perfect and disappears the moment anything gets hard. It is present when you feel good and absent when you need it most. It is a fair-weather friend that abandons you precisely when you need support.
Monday I felt great. The workout happened. Easy. Natural. Motivation was present and willing.
Tuesday I woke up tired. The bed was warm. The morning was dark. The motivation that showed up so eagerly on Monday was nowhere to be found. I told myself I would exercise in the evening. I did not.
Wednesday the pattern repeated. Thursday I was still telling myself the same story. By Friday I had essentially given up on the week.
You cannot build anything sustainable on motivation. It is too inconsistent. Too dependent on factors you do not control. Too easily disrupted by a bad night of sleep or a stressful email or the simple reality that some days you just do not feel like it.
What I learned, again, is that I need systems. Not intentions. Systems. Structures that do not depend on how I feel. Defaults that operate regardless of motivation. Environments designed to make the right choice the easy choice.
When exercise depends on whether I feel like it, I will find reasons not to feel like it. The morning will be cold. The bed will be warm. The day ahead will seem demanding. The excuses will arrive on schedule, dressed as reasonable considerations.
When exercise is scheduled, when the decision is pre-made, when the gym bag is packed the night before and the time is blocked on the calendar like any other non-negotiable appointment, I do it. Not because I want to in that moment. Because the system removes the need for a moment-by-moment decision.
Same with writing. Same with client follow-ups. Same with anything that matters but does not have an external deadline forcing compliance.
The pattern is clear: every time I rely on intentions, I fall short. Every time I build systems, I follow through. The correlation is perfect enough that ignoring it is just willful blindness.
The adjustment for next week: stop expecting motivation to show up. Build the structure instead. Make the decisions in advance. Remove friction from the things I want to do. Add friction to the things I want to avoid.
Exercise goes on the calendar at 6 AM. Non-negotiable. The same priority as a client call. Because if it is negotiable, I will negotiate myself out of it every time.
Design the environment so the right choice is the default choice. Then stop relying on willpower to carry the load.
Systems beat intentions. Every time. Without exception. I know this. Now I need to act on it.
3. Rest Is Not a Reward. It Is a Requirement.
I worked through Wednesday evening when I should have stopped.
The project was not urgent. No deadline was demanding I push through. No client was waiting for something that had to be done that night. Just the familiar voice that says more is better, that rest is for later, that stopping now is somehow falling behind. That voice that equates exhaustion with virtue.
That voice is a liar. But it is a convincing one. It knows exactly what to say to keep me working past the point of diminishing returns.
Thursday I was useless. Not tired in the normal way. Depleted. The kind of tired where you stare at things without seeing them. Where simple decisions feel impossible. Where you go through the motions but nothing real gets done.
I spent Thursday looking productive while accomplishing almost nothing. The work I did produce was mediocre at best. The thinking I attempted was shallow and unfocused. I was present in body and absent in every way that mattered.
I borrowed from Thursday to fund Wednesday. And the interest rate was brutal. Whatever I gained by pushing through Wednesday night, I lost tenfold on Thursday. The math was terrible.
This is the lesson I keep learning and keep forgetting: rest is not optional. It is not something you earn after the work is done. It is not a reward for sufficient productivity. It is part of how the work gets done. It is a requirement, not a bonus.
Without rest, everything else degrades. Thinking gets slower. Creativity disappears. Patience evaporates. You make decisions you would not make rested. You snap at people who do not deserve it. You produce work that requires redoing.
The culture celebrates exhaustion. Wears it like a badge of honor. Brags about how little sleep we got, how many hours we put in, how relentlessly we pushed. But exhaustion is not a sign of commitment. It is a sign of poor resource management.
I am not against hard work. I am against unsustainable work. Against the lie that you can run at redline indefinitely without consequences. Against the fantasy that you are the exception, that somehow the rules of human biology do not apply to you.
They apply. They always apply. And the consequences of ignoring them accumulate silently until they cannot be ignored anymore.
Rest is not the reward. Rest is the requirement. This is true whether I want it to be or not.
THE WINS
What went well this week:
Had the conversation I was avoiding. The relationship is better for it. Eleven minutes of discomfort was worth three weeks of relief.
Published every day despite the holiday chaos. Consistency maintained even when motivation was absent. The system worked even when I did not want it to.
Closed a new consulting engagement with a client whose values align with mine. Not just revenue. The right kind of revenue. The kind that energizes rather than drains.
Actually used my AI systems instead of defaulting to manual work. Finally letting the tools do what they are designed to do.
Said no to two things that would have fragmented my focus. The nos were harder than the yeses would have been. That is usually a sign they were the right call.
THE LOSSES
What did not go well:
Exercise consistency failed completely. Twice instead of daily. Intentions without systems. Same mistake I keep making.
Overworked Wednesday, paid for it Thursday. Still have not internalized that rest is not optional. The lesson does not stick.
Let email pile up. Spent Friday digging out instead of creating. Reactive instead of proactive. The inbox ran me instead of the other way around.
Caught myself half-present with family multiple times. Proximity without presence. In the room but not in the conversation.
WHAT I AM ADJUSTING
Based on this week, here is what changes next week:
Schedule exercise with the same priority as client calls. It goes on the calendar. 6 AM. Non-negotiable. No more relying on motivation that will not show up.
Hard stop at 6 PM. No exceptions without genuinely extraordinary circumstances. Not difficult circumstances. Extraordinary ones. The threshold has to be high or it means nothing.
Email gets 30 minutes in the morning, 30 in the afternoon. Nothing between. Batch processing, not constant monitoring. Reactive mode is the enemy.
Phone stays in another room during family time. Physical distance creates mental presence. If I cannot reach for it, I will not reach for it.
Before any hard conversation, ask: is the cost of avoidance higher than the cost of action? If yes, act immediately. No more three-week delays for eleven-minute conversations.
LOOKING FORWARD
Next week is the last full week before Christmas. The temptation is to either push hard to close out the year strong or to mentally check out early. Both extremes miss the point.
I am choosing something in between.
Show up. Do the work that matters. Let go of the work that does not. Be present with the people who matter. And stop measuring the week by how exhausted I am at the end of it.
The goal is sustainable, not heroic. Consistent, not impressive. Present, not just productive.
QUOTE I AM CARRYING INTO THE WEEK
"Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you."
Anne Lamott
Simple. True. Worth remembering when the voice says to keep pushing.
CLOSING
Three lessons. Some wins. Some losses. A few adjustments.
This is what building looks like. Not perfection. Progress. Not having it all figured out. Figuring it out as you go. Not avoiding mistakes. Making them, noticing them, adjusting.
The goal is not to eliminate failure. The goal is to fail forward. To extract the lesson. To let this week make next week better.
See you Tuesday for the next article. Until then, rest well. Reflect honestly. Come back ready.
One step, one day. Grace over guilt.