A client’s daughter was very excited about an upcoming game. She’d been working hard in soccer practice and this was the first time she would play forward. It was a big event for her and she was excited that her dad would be there to support her.

But as the game heated up, from deep in his pocket his phone began it’s gentle humming, calling, nagging. He stayed with the game for a minute, attention split in two: his daughter struggling to contribute and the unknown message. Unable to resist, he looked. It was a senior leader looking for answers. He put the phone away. But now he knew.

The quiet urgency grew and unfurled like a hot inner dragon, unfurling and crawling up through his core, through his shoulder, towards his arm, until it jerked, unasked, into motion. The arm grabbed the phone and the legs carried him to the parking lot to make the call.

It was only afterwards that it came: the heavy feeling in the stomach that settles in after eating all of those frosted doughnuts that looked so good at first. There were eight other people that could have answered those questions. Eight other people could have made that call. But his daughter, excited about this one time opportunity, wanting support and encouragement, had only one dad.

What makes this hard?

Why is prioritizing so hard? During the planning phase, neurologically there are plenty of reasons:

• Recency bias has us assign false urgency and importance to we experienced or learned most recently.
• Availability bias has us prioritize things that come more readily to mind.
• Impact bias has us do a bad job of anticipating the impact and duration of outcomes.

What about acting on priorities in the moment? When the choice comes? When the phone moves? Then we are hyjacked by another swarm of demons including supernormal stimulus, reduced executive function (from stress, lack of sleep, willpower overuse, decision fatigue), social pressure and more.

Much more importantly: why is prioritizing, or remembering and acting on priorities in the moment, hard for you in particular? What is the system, the story, the impulse that is unique to you that says you can’t say no or “have to” rush in?

These are deep rooted and, for many, invisible drivers of our behaviors. If you’ve ever burnt out because you worked yourself off a cliff, chances are that a younger part of you was driving – a younger part of you that couldn’t let go, stop, or say no.

Check it out for yourself

Here is one experiment that may help you get a glimpse of how this works for you in particular. First choose any task or project on your plate. Then ask yourself this question, but only after really slowing down for a moment. Put the phone down. Turn to face out a window. Do a few straw breaths. Now allow yourself to really listen to what comes up, especially the responses that seem “silly.” Ask the question like dropping a pebble into a still pool of water. Follow the ripples of reaction.

Have you really paused? Do it. Really. Take the pause first and then come back to this paragraph.

Now gently release this question like a drop sinking into your chest and belly: “what would happen if I didn’t do it?” Listen for whatever it might be. Just notice. Is there a physical reaction? An emotion? If there is fear, what does it say? “They would leave me.” “I would get fired and be on the street.” “People would see I was incapable.” “Someone would be alone.” “Someone would be disappointed.” “I wouldn’t be free.” “It would be incomplete.” “I would never have peace.”

Now maybe you have a glimpse of the child behind the steering wheel. What’s next?

As you look over your list of possible actions for the day, take a moment to notice: who is deciding right now? Is it your inner leader? Your expansive, centered adult self? Or the fear or anger or child? Sometimes it is helpful to take a moment and place a hand on your belly or chest. Acknowledge the fear you feel there. Appreciate that it’s there for a reason, trying its best in a childlike way to protect you. And let it know that, for now, you need to take the wheel. Imagine letting this child or part of you know they can sit beside you, but not drive for now. Sometimes making a small physical gesture of setting them there can help. After doing this – now what makes sense? What seems possible? Has it changed?

I’ve had clients make significant career moves after working with this simple exercise. It takes practice, but can be worth the pause.

In the future I’ll write more about what I’ve learned from over a decade of supporting leaders and professionals as they navigate challenges like these as part of a series on productivity.

References

Gilbert, D. (2006). Stumbling on happiness. New York, NY: Vintage Books.

Cialdini, R. B. (2007). Influence: The psychology of persuasion (Collins business essentials) (Revised ed.). HarperBusiness.

Cialdini, R. B. (2016). Pre-suasion: A revolutionary way to influence and persuade. Simon and Schuster.