The shelf life of a “perfect system”
Or, finding the perfect system for now.
How many planners, calendars, workbooks or journals have you purchased thinking, “this is going to fix my life?”
I’ll be honest – I’ve bought a LOT, and used them with varying degrees of success. One of my favorites was my knock-off bullet journal. I used my journal all through 2020 and 2021. And I loved it. It was the perfect solution to organize my chaotic life.
Until one day it wasn't.
I see it over and over again in my life, and with my clients. We get stuck in a rut, get desperate for a solution, and work ourselves into a panicky headspace where we hyper-focus on finding an ideal system we believe will “fix” whatever is cramping our creative style – that a fancy writing app will eliminate the pacing issues in our WIP, that morning pages will finish our story for us, that a sparkly new pen and journal will inspire us with an idea that will ignite our fading creative fire.
And while it’s true that some of these shiny tools can help generate a breakthrough, the really uncomfortable truth is there is no such thing as a perfect system.
The even more uncomfortable truth is that even when you do find a “perfect” system, it’s usually only perfect for now.
The act of creation is fundamentally intuitive. It’s not linear. Sometimes the ideal conditions for creative work can be identified and recreated. Sometimes they can’t. That’s pretty damn frustrating.
One thing you do have control over is the decision to not bully yourself into using the same system over and over just because it worked last time.
Back to my bullet journal – I loved it until I started to resent it. Until it started feeling like a chore. In the past, I might have felt shame and frustration with myself – just do the damn journaling Erin, it helps you! But instead, I gave myself some grace and asked gently, (thank you therapy) – what method might feel easier, but also accomplish the same goal?
The answer, for me, was a dry-erase board – something I can put on my wall, that I can see from my desk, that I can’t set down somewhere and lose, that’s only one manageable page on which I can make a list of tasks and erase them once they’re complete.
But the dry-erase board part of this story isn’t what actually mattered–what mattered was interrupting the pattern.
I got tired of the journal. I got bored. I needed something new and shiny, but I also needed to accomplish the same goal (remembering to do important tasks daily). The dry-erase board served to interrupt the pattern – getting to buy dry-erase markers in multiple colors, the satisfying sensation of erasing a completed task – enough that I was motivated to actually use it and achieve my goal.
But because the goal of creative work is rarely this straightforward, your pattern interrupt might look totally different. You might ask yourself a question, gently, and hear I don’t know I just don’t feel like working on The Book.
When that happens, do something new.
This can be almost anything–go to the grocery store and strike up a conversation with the bagger. Buy new sheets for your bed. Go to the airport and watch the planes land. Do something you used to think was fun and you stopped doing because you’re too busy. Play hooky for a day. See what happens.
It won’t always be clear how the pattern interrupt will jostle your creative muscles back into alignment, but it will.
Trust your instincts. Trust your inherent desire for joy.
Above all, remember that if you’re stuck in this headspace, looking for the perfect system, trust you WILL find it – it just won't be perfect forever.
And that’s ok. Because you’ll find a new perfect system. Every time.
