A client’s daughter was very excited about an upcoming game. She had 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 parent would be there to support her.

But as the game heated up, the energetic tug began. From their pocket my client’s phone began it’s gentle humming, calling, nagging. They stayed with the game for a minute, attention split in two, one on their child struggling to contribute and the other towards the machine. Unable to resist, they took a look. It was a senior leader looking for answers. They put the phone away. But now they knew.

The heat and intensity we all know so well grew and unfurled like a hot inner dragon, crawling up through their core and towards their arm until it jerked into motion. The arm grabbed the phone and the legs carried them 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 the time. There were eight other people that could have answered those questions. Eight other people could have made that call. But for their daughter, there was only one.

What makes this hard?

Why is prioritizing so hard? Neurologically there are plenty of reasons. Recency bias has us assign false urgency and importance. Availability bias has us prioritize things that come more readily to mind. Impact bias has us do a terrible job of anticipating the impact and duration of outcomes.

But this is the planning phase. 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? 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 stumbled out of a burnout crash 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 this?” 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.