I struggle with this concept all the time.
Productivity is a lot harder than it seems for me.
Is it because of the pain of remembering my past regrets and life decisions? My laziness? The roadblocks? My tired body? Or the overwhelming fear of perfectionism?
Every day, I wake up wanting to do more with my day—but that thought alone overwhelms me. It makes me feel like whatever I do isn’t enough, because I know I could be doing so much more.
So what do I do?
Nothing.
I sit around, consumed by the fear that I’m already behind. I try to distract myself from the ticking clock, but not a single productive moment comes out of it. Life is scary like that. Time doesn’t wait. And each day reminds me that I’m wasting it—not doing enough.
Now, I hope you don’t relate to this. But if you unfortunately do… I’m sorry.
I haven’t found the cure for this unsettling feeling yet.
It’s hard not to compare myself to those who do so much with so little— and those who do so little and have so much.
The race against time and the pressure to accomplish all my dreams paralyzes me in this gift of life we call the present.
But I know this much: even if I don’t have all the answers yet, I have to take action—small or big. Because even the smallest step is still a step forward.
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