In the last post, I shared the paradigms I had to reject — including the myth that life is about productivity and one right way to do things. Here's what I do instead of forcing myself onto a rigid schedule — and it starts with a question, not a calendar.
The energy litmus test
Most productivity advice starts with the calendar. Mine starts with a question: How is my energy right now?
How is my energy at this moment?
What do I need?
What's the best use of my energy right now?
Some days the honest answer is prime focus time. On those days I ask a second question: What support do I need to protect it? (A timer, a closed door, a brain dump first to quiet the noise or a body double to keep me on track.)
Other days, the answer is one of these:
Time to move my body before anything else.
Eat some protein, drink some coffee
Brain dump time — get everything out of my head and onto paper
Do-nothing time — genuine rest, not disguised as scrolling
Socialize, or reach out to someone
Organize or declutter a space that's bugging me
Financial tasks
Educate myself on a weak spot or a special interest
On weaknesses (and why I don't panic about them)
That last one deserves its own paragraph. It's really okay to admit we're weak in some areas. That doesn't define you — it makes you an aware person. I can admit where I need to improve, ask for help, and find resources, teachers, and mentors who have that strength. And I bet I have strengths they might not have developed. It's not a win-lose situation.
Most strength coaches will tell you to spend time working on your weaknesses, so you can balance your strengths and not overcompensate or injure yourself with overuse. Knowing your individual struggle spots gives you a place to decide if something needs to be trained and strengthened — or borrowed from someone else.
The scaffolding: anchors, not schedules
Here's the nuance that makes following energy actually workable: it's not a blank slate every morning. Part of my periodic brain dump is sitting down to evaluate my values and goals — and from those evaluations, I build weekly repeatable practices. Scaffolding, so I don't have to keep making the same decisions over and over.
Many of us with ADHD get stuck in decision fatigue and paralysis. Anchors are the antidote:
Monday and Wednesday start with Pilates. For you it could be walking the dog or Hyrox.
Tuesday and Thursday start with long nature walks. Or cold plunges and sauna.
Friday is my rest day.
That's predictable. Non-negotiable. Like the seasons, it follows a rhythm each week. Then — seasonally — I evaluate whether those routines still serve me. If I'm getting bored or they no longer fit, I give myself permission to find a new anchor.
The same is true of my week overall: exercise has its weekly flow, work has designated days, weekends have their own rhythm. But within that flow, I have the freedom to follow interest, energy, and opportunities as they come up. Predictable, but not inflexible.
Why this beats a rigid schedule
A rigid schedule assumes yesterday's energy predicts today's, and it treats every hour as a decision to enforce. The anchor-and-flow model splits the difference: the anchors remove the decision fatigue, and the litmus test decides what fills the open space. Some mornings my brain is buzzing with good energy by 7 a.m. — that's prime focus time, and I take it. Other mornings it needs a brain dump before anything useful. Both are correct answers.
But the daily check only goes so far
Answering "what does my energy need today" keeps the lights on. It doesn't answer the bigger question: is my life pointed at anything? That's the territory of the next and final post in this series — the story I've been telling about myself, and how to tell if it's actually mine.
