Your To-Do List Doesn’t Own You: Morning Shifts That Saved Me
I roll over and glance at the clock: 4:31 AM. My mind has already cycled through my to-do list dozens of times. Unable to fall back asleep, I get up. I quietly shuffle downstairs, trying not to wake the cat or dog, phone in hand. As the coffee gurgles to life, I open my work email. Once the coffee is done, I grab my laptop and sit at the kitchen table. My to-do list has fully lured me in. It owns me.
This was me in burnout. The quality of my day was defined by how many checks I made on my to-do list and how many open boxes remained. Rest was something I could have when all the boxes were checked. Needless to say, it didn’t happen very often.
Once I recognized my burnout, with the support of a coach, I began practicing a few small daily shifts that made a big difference. Two years later, they’re still with me.
Claiming Space Before the World Rushes In
Email was a huge trigger for me. If something unexpected showed up in my inbox, irritation would rise and spill out on those around me, usually my family. A major shift came when I stopped looking at my work email in the morning.
Looking at my email had become a nervous habit for me. I do it when bored, at a stoplight, or waiting at the dentist. I don’t really want to respond to work emails in those moments, but I thought that by staying on top of things, dealing quickly with the little stuff, and clearing out the junk during these apparently “useless” moments, I would be in control. I also thought I needed to stay on top of my email in case something urgent arose; my team needed me.
But here’s what happened: not checking email constantly made me more efficient when I did. It also created space, space I thought I didn’t have. But it was there. I just had to claim it.
I also stopped scrolling news and social media until after I had time for myself. This small boundary gave me permission to discover what I needed first before I saw what the world needed.
Making Space to Feel What’s Real
Growing up, I had never learned that my feelings were useful. I believed they were to be controlled and put to the side in favor of rational, analytical thought. But those unfelt feelings didn’t disappear. They seeped out in snippy, abrupt reactions. It was easy to trigger me.
Journaling in the morning allows me to feel what’s real. It takes 10 to 30 minutes but saves time by making my day centered and clear.
My current journaling practice includes three steps:
Giving thanks for three things
Free-writing a page of what’s on my mind
Answering these questions: What am I afraid of? What do I need? What does love want me to know?
The exact structure shifts with the seasons, but the heart of the practice remains. It has helped me:
Respond instead of react
Choose my direction, letting go of the “shoulds”
See the abundance already present in my life
Creating Stillness to Hear What Matters Most
Meditation doesn’t just help me connect with myself, it has also given me essential skills for living an open-hearted life.
First, by cultivating a capacity for quiet, I learned to hear the whispers of my soul and found the inner wisdom that guides me toward love.
Second, meditation has strengthened the compassionate observer in me. Off the meditation cushion, I’ve learned to see my thoughts as just that, thoughts. Thoughts are not the truth. Some are useful; some are not. I am not my thoughts. I have thoughts, and I can choose which ones to engage.
That inner observer notices when my inner critic, perfectionism, or people-pleaser show up, usually when fear is present. When she sees them coming, she invites me to pause, get quiet, feel the fear, accept it, move it through, and ask what it’s here to teach me. After that, the best next step always becomes clear.
These shifts take time to develop. You may feel like you have none, but the magic is that by connecting, listening, and practicing compassion, you gain time.
Your inner wisdom isn’t lost; it’s just waiting for quiet.
Start by claiming one moment of silence. That’s where change begins.