I’m back after a long journey through the land of wombats and wallabies. On the road, I read extensively and collected ideas to fuel my writing in 2025.
One of the most inspiring things I read was Sonya Supposedly’s essay on the struggles of writing as a parent.1 It helped me to identify what I often fight with as “Task Triage Paralysis” and offered a healthier alternative: doing the obvious next thing.
This hit me hard, even out of context, and “doing the obvious next thing” became my motivational framing for a new year of doing stuff, also writing.
Then something else happened: in February 2025, my partner and I became caregivers to a little child. And suddenly, Sonya’s essay gained unexpected literal relevance. Citing it directly, this is what is happening in my life right now:
I thought I knew my capacity until motherhood broke all my previous containers. Now I pour myself into shapes I never imagined, and somehow there is always enough. Still, I often fear there won’t be. But I am expansive, flowing into every corner that needs to be filled. I follow gravity. I do the obvious next thing. 1
They say parenthood raises the stakes of everything you do, amplifying upsides and downsides simultaneously. I think that is true, but figuring out the implications of it may take me a lifetime.
Insights from three magic weeks with little sleep:
- The scaffolding I built into my life feels mission critical now - which makes me realize it wasn’t essential, but a hobby before.
- Complex tagging systems are unsustainable, voice-to-text is a life saver.
- Work expands to fill the time available.2 I am still optimistic this works both ways.
- As a parent, writing and other non-necessary endeavors require embracing chaos and honesty.
Doing the next obvious thing instead of forever triaging tasks seemed like a promising take on productivity. Since a child entered my life, it’s a no-brainer.
Every second counts.