Step Back: The Power of Mindful Transitions
Our brains spin stories about all the tasks waiting, the deadlines looming, the endless to-do lists that seem to multiply while we dare to take a breath. Take a moment to realign yourself.
Last night, I found myself sprawled on the couch, watching Stephen Colbert's monologue on my laptop when my brain started its familiar routine.
Final Cut Pro was just a few clicks away, practically taunting me. Being autistic, these rapid shifts between activities come naturally to me, sometimes a blessing, often a challenge.
My fingers itched to close YouTube and dive straight into editing. But this time something made me pause.
The productivity trap
Most of us treat relaxation like a guilty pleasure. For neurodivergent folks like me, with a dash of CPTSD in the mix, this gets even spicier.
Our brains spin stories about all the tasks waiting, the deadlines looming, the endless to-do lists that seem to multiply while we dare to take a breath.
This compulsive need to stay busy runs deeper than simple time management. Sometimes we jump into tasks, filling every moment with motion because sitting still feels uncomfortable.
Hell, even shower time gets infected with this restless energy - how many of us write entire blog posts in our heads while shampooing? (Spoiler alert: It’s not in my head—I’ve drafted quite a few of these in the shower.)
The space between
Transitions felt more natural when we were kids.
The reason? Kids know how to do this instinctively. They fully immerse themselves in play, then seamlessly shift to rest when their bodies need it. Somewhere along the way, we lose this ability.
For some of us, we might not have had it in the first place—and that's okay too.
Our devices make this even trickier. When work and relaxation live on the same screen, the boundary between them becomes paper-thin. One minute you're laughing at a YouTube video, the next you're knee-deep in Final Cut Pro—all without moving an inch.
For someone who can hyper-focus almost to a fault, this instant access to work mode can be both a superpower and a curse.
Through years of personal growth, some years of therapy, and conversations with others walking similar paths, I've discovered something profound to me:
Transitions deserve their own space. Those moments between activities hold just as much value as the activities themselves.
A fresh way forward
Our brains spin stories about all the tasks waiting, the deadlines looming, the endless to-do lists that seem to multiply while we dare to take a breath.
Some nights now, I let myself finish the whole damn video. Other evenings, I take five slow breaths before switching tabs to work.
These small moments of conscious transition have revolutionized both my work and rest. Sure, my brain still races at a million miles per hour, but I'm learning to surf those waves instead of drowning in them.
The surprising outcome? My productivity actually improved. With a clearer mind, my editing flows better. My writing carries more depth. And those precious moments of rest? I can finally sink into them fully, without my mind already racing toward the next task.
Old habits die hard
Nobody rewires years of conditioning overnight. Just yesterday, I caught myself trying to eat lunch while editing an episode and scheduling the next guest. Old habits die hard. But now I notice these moments with curiosity rather than judgment.
Next time your brain starts pushing you to rush into the next thing, try pausing. Get curious about what's driving that urgency. Your body might surprise you with what it has to say.
And hey, if you're struggling with this stuff, consider talking to someone.
A fresh perspective can work wonders.
Whether you're neurodivergent, dealing with past stuff, or just trying to navigate this wild world, you're not alone in this journey.
Every moment we spend present (working or resting) adds richness to our lives that no amount of multitasking can match.
Great stuff Jake! Sometimes a fresh perspective does wonders 👏🏼
“Nobody rewires years of conditioning overnight.” Love it