Balancing the Spinning Plates of Life

Something I’ve realized over the past couple of years, more so lately as I started editing in earnest, is that there’s this sense of things being in a state of perpetual openness. Openness being the opposite of closure in this case. Tasks, work, games, whatever. All left in various states of incompleteness, unsure if, or when, they'll ever be picked up again and finished.

I described it to my partner once that it was like having too many tabs open in my browser, all these tasks were taking up space in my rapidly diminishing capacity to tackle each and every one of them satisfyingly. Limited by my beliefs, competence, time, or more likely finances to complete them. I look around and I’m reminded by the paint on the wall that needs touching up, cardboard boxes to recycle or the air conditioning that needs maintenance. And as I sit in the midst of the reminders of my inaction, more tasks continue to be added to my ever growing to-do list.

I once salivated at the thought of having a perpetual list of activities to look forward to, the first of which to oblige such a request was gaming. As modern video games stopped being just self-contained experiences but ones that could be updated constantly or in a set period of time, seasons as we would call them now, to provide an everlasting flow of additional content to satiate the unending hunger of the modern gamer. I welcomed this change with open arms. Having what little finances I had then, it was like the expansion packs of old but I didn’t have to wait months or years for a new one. Best of all, you get to stay within the game that you oh so loved for an extended period of time. Little did I know that such a wish was made on a monkey’s paw.

Imagine if you will, a car that you’re driving on a long journey. When it was you alone, you might turn on the radio to listen to music or a podcast. You journey far on your own, with just your baggage to carry around. Then along the way, you start picking up passengers. A life partner, children, parents, friends, the list goes on. At first you don’t notice that you’re stopping more often for breaks to pump petrol. Maybe it’s age or maybe it’s the car getting older. That’s life, you surmise. Then comes work, obligations, or that new project that you’re supposed to start. Now you really notice that you’re stopping more often to refill and on top of that, your car starts to feel less responsive. So much so that the combination of aging man and machine leads you to have more close calls on the road than you would wish. Moments where you react just a split second late or the brake pads start to wear thin, it frustrates you and you’re just thankful that they were close calls and nothing more serious. But these are just symptoms of a cause that has gone unnoticed, you’re carrying too much weight now.

One or two wouldn’t matter, but imaging multitudes of them. It’ll start to affect performance and my mental state. Remember when I talked about video games earlier, games that kept getting new content and updates for years to come, we call those games as GaaS or games as a service. A decade ago, there might be one or two of these GaaS but as companies saw the poster boy of GaaS, Fortnite, making billions of dollars in the industry everyone wanted a piece of the pie. Shoving GaaS-like systems into games that frankly couldn’t sustain it and people’s expectations meant that if these games didn’t fulfill that promise of a constantly updated experience. It was only a matter of time before the consumer would turn on them and leave.

Other industries would follow suit. Apps or programs that are no longer one-off purchases but subscription services. My doorbell needs me to pay an annual fee to store the videos it captures. YouTube wants me to sign up for Premium so that I can avoid seeing ads. Video streaming services that want you subscribed to their services for months to watch a show to its completion. So you can see how it’s not just one or two things these days that require our attention, it’s legions at this point.

So, how do we navigate this constant state of "openness"? Perhaps, the answer lies in prioritization. We can learn to identify the tasks that truly matter and dedicate our undivided attention towards them. Saying no to new commitments can also be liberating. Figuring out which commitments that will lead me to new opportunities instead of saying yes to every single open door helps me by not stretching myself too thin by chasing every single lead.

Secondly, having a way to organize your tasks and commitments is crucial as it frees up your brain from thinking about when and where you need to be. This allows you to just focus on the task at hand.

For months, I've been trying to learn how to use Notion to help me wrangle my thoughts and organize my tasks. Implementation has been a little slow for me as the software can be quite daunting at first due to it not being as straightforward. But once you get the hang of it, you'll be able to connect disparate works together and have an overview on everything.

Lastly, setting limits is the key to prioritizing your time and thoughts. How much time you spend on social media or a streaming platform versus spending it on actually doing something productive matters greatly. I know I struggle with this the most as I would be distracted by some completely unrelated task and spend hours on it rather than on what I needed to do at the moment. It's still a struggle for me, but I can see that just focusing on fewer things at a time will pay off immensely.

What about you? How can you cultivate a sense of closure and satisfaction amidst the constant "openness" of modern life?