In 2023, Forget Not To Do Lists. Do This Instead.

Photo by Guilherme Stecanella on Unsplash

I had a bit of a paralyzing moment this new year. I thought I’d share it in case there’s anyone else out there with a similarly-wired brain.?(Thoughts and prayers to you if you do.)

There’s this dynamic where creative, ideative minds can feel overburdened. Here’s how it works for me:

If you’re familiar with CliftonStrengths, you know that we all have natural, feels-like-we’re-cheating strengths. Some people are naturally organized, others know how to knock stuff off a list, some people know how to network effortlessly, some are inherently connected to the emotions on their teams. There’s a strength called Ideation, and these people have never-ending streams of ideas. I have this affliction, er… strength. To me, it feels like fireflies buzzing around me all the time. Usually, all I need to do is grab a jar (some context), swing it around, and I’ll have a bounty of ideas. Without assessing quality, this is usually quite effortless. I can pretty quickly have an idea bevy at the ready to discuss or make fun of or work through or throw away or get distracted by.

Or add to a to-do list. More on that in a second.

My Strengths profile also includes Futuristic and Strategic, and so when I have an idea, I clearly, and often immediately, see how it gets done (Strategic) and what it will look like when it’s in its successful state (Futuristic). There’s upside and downside to this, as anyone who’s ever worked with CliftonStrengths knows, but the key concept here is that to me, ideas aren’t usually just ideas. They’re solutions. They’re achievable actions. They’re plans. Which is exciting and affirming, but also burdensome.?

It makes my to-do lists perilous as hell. How am I supposed to get any of this accomplished?

Now, I like to think I’m an against-the-grain kinda guy. When it comes to my professional life, my instinct is usually to question fads and the status quo. If there’s a movement online, my instinct (again without assessing quality or accuracy) is to question it.

But for some reason, I got sucked into the online enthusiasm surrounding the “Successful Leaders Must Develop Not To Do Lists” obsession. I’m sure you’ve seen these memes, proffering advice by way of one of those inalienable-looking, carved-in-stone, Canva templates: Follow the paths of the privileged who can and do say "no" to things more than they say "yes," and the world is yours.

Hell yeah, I thought. I say “yes” to too many things. I, too, get distracted by a multitude of opportunities. This is gold! Richard Branson so effortlessly smiles in all those pictures and has a terrific head of hair in his 70s specifically because he has a Not To Do List. Brilliant.?

So I sat down to make my own 2023 Not To Do List. Who needs Rogaine?

But I couldn’t.?

I don’t mean I couldn’t think of anything to not do. I mean I couldn’t physically bring myself to write the words. The best I could muster were vague acronyms that stood for the thing I was considering not doing, and some question marks before and after it. I’m not kidding. I was physically unable to write the words, some journaling version of that Jim Carrey movie scene where he’s unable to tell a lie.

My 2023 To Do List grew while my Not To Do List became a jumbled registry of acronyms and melodramatic punctuation.

I felt paralyzed. So I did what I normally do during un-buoyed times: I turned to checking sports scores on espn.com. And then, when I couldn't ignore it any longer, I reflected on it with with my wife (who always seems to point me north). Here’s what I came up with:

I will forever have one thing at the top of my To Do List: Do Not Have A Not To Do List. Bleep ‘em. For minds wired like mine, it’s a concept that completely invalidates what is a core strength. To some, not to do lists help focus and prioritize. To me, it dismisses an idea by throwing it out—telling myself that it won’t be done. It literally goes against my wiring.?

My approach instead? I don’t exactly know. I don’t have a catchy, click-y-headline-y, LinkedIn-savvy way to express the messy and wonderful way ideas and creativity works. Here’s what I do know: I’m keeping all my ideas so that they may be done. They’re valuable, precious, they’re from a remarkable place, and they’ll be there when I, or someone else, is ready for them.?

Don’t even call it a priority list. Get out of here with that. Lists and priorities are too constraining. My ideas might come to life in a yet-to-be discovered context or opportunity for which it’s impossible to create a list. Ideas need to live. Sideways, reverse, negative, nonlinear, swimming in a stream where people, need, opportunity, stimulus, and motivation converge. There are no priorities controlling that space. The only thing that ultimately matters is the context where an idea has value, and someone to grab it and activate it.

Many of my ideas might be for someone else altogether. Someone else will do it. My ideas are a priority for someone, somewhere. They’re simply waiting for the right host.?

This year, my ideas are very much alive and on some To Do List somewhere, sometime. I hope yours are, too.