My autumn Book Chat started this week. It’s basically an online bookclub. I led one last year using Annie F. Downs’ book ‘100 Days To Brave’ and got lots of comments about how fun it was. We did it online because I’d recently moved country and my friends were travelling and yet we wanted to read the book together. This year it made even more sense: we now all live in different countries and with Covid-19 minimising contact generally makes sense.

I loved leading the book club last time, I really did, but it was a lot of work posting new content every day. As I said, I moved country (from China to Switzerland) and together with my family we were in temporary accommodation and also navigating sending the second oldest off to college. The struggles I had I put down to all that.

Owning up to my bad habits

As I started to set up to leading the book club this fall, I recognised how little I was getting done. I was sat at the computer but when my alarm went off I realised how little I’d got done. I was frustrated. 

I started deliberately analysing how I spent my time and this made me own my procrastination. 

The struggles I had last time? Blaming the moving? I was in denial.

My past style leading group

In the past when I led book studies or Bible studies for groups of women, I could largely get away with doing my reading then letting it ruminate all week, allowing the ideas to mingle and then really hustling the day before I had to meet my group. 

Why the procrastination now?

The reason for my procrastination was rarely laziness or busyness, it was nearly always a desire for perfection.

My brain would tell me: this idea is alright, but it’s not perfect so let’s wait until a better idea comes or I have a way to do this one perfectly. Sometimes, of course, I would be ready early (I didn’t always leave everything to the last minute!) but in real in-person life, however I felt, the meeting day would come, the women would arrive and I would have to speak.

Fear or not.

Prepared or not.

Whether the engagement ideas were as perfect as they had been in my mind’s eye, or not: they would have to be delivered.

Online, it’s not quite the same.

Online, I don’t have to walk into a building and look into the faces of people relying on me to guide a discussion. Online, I don’t have the physical preparation (getting dressed, packing snacks, driving in the car) to get me in the mindset for the event. Even when I held groups at my home, I always had the crazy house-cleaning or baking in the hours before to set me up. If I was administratively behind, I could plan my words while I vacuumed or while I stirred ingredients.

Having real-life people in front of me removed any possibility of putting it off.

Even when I knew it wasn’t perfect, I had the impetus to get on with it.

What I want to do differently

So, I need to find different ways of doing. I know I must plan my content like the Youtubers and the beautiful influencers do.

When I started working this way, I realised this was how I used to operate when I worked with assignments, or with my business when I had projects to write. I realised this is how I operated when our family had trips or vacations, and even how I plan the cooking and shopping for our family meals. I don’t know why I would ever have imagined that communicating online would just happen—I’m sure I didn’t consciously decide that so where did the notion come from?

I don’t want to look stupid

I wonder if, for me, leading and communicating online seems to take more intentionality because I don’t want to be misconstrued. I don’t want to be seen to make mistakes. I don’t want to look stupid or lame. Because my group (my ‘audience’) can’t see my face when I mess up and realise I realise or immediately sympathise, because I can’t post online “sorry” messages the way we do face-to-face but rather must avoid the need for apologies, avoid communicating poorly and do it right first time, on time, I feel the pressure. I know I will mess up, so I put off starting. 

For a perfectionist like me, that leads to gross procrastination. 

Being honest with myself about my procrastination

I can procrastinate like A BOSS. I can clean every kitchen cupboard and utensil I own in order to avoid creating an instagram post. 

This past year I have tried to honestly recognise when I’m procrastinating, and have made attempts to articulate what fear is causing me to avoid a task.

I don’t always manage it but when I do I always learn something.

What I’m trying to make happen now is noticing earlier on in my procrastination process, and pre-prepare ‘what to do when’ pointers to help me rally.

I have given my children permission to call me out when they seen me procrastinating and it has helped. Since they have been home more (due to the pandemic) having them call me out has accelerated my learning curve. (I just had to learn first not to snap at them when they alerted me!) Luckily, they were pretty good at being kind about it, making it into a joke and extensive use of the ‘talking to each other when I could clearly overhear them’ device. 

Being kind to myself about my procrastination

As I more deliberately examine why I procrastinate and the things I fear, I endeavour to be kinder to myself. Noticing my inadequacies doesn’t make me less inadequate than I was before, but it does make it more possible that I will learn to rise above them.