Progress in the Middle of the Chaos

Some days, it feels like I can’t finish a single thought without someone needing something. Family interruptions, household noise, random distractions — they all compete for attention while my brain runs its own chaotic side show in the background. Even when the house is quiet, my head isn’t. It’s like living with a busy flatmate who won’t stop talking.

But here’s the thing: waiting for perfect conditions doesn’t work. I do get peace and quiet sometimes — but by then, I’m usually too mentally frazzled to use it properly. My brain doesn’t suddenly turn zen the moment the house goes quiet; it just finds new ways to overthink instead.

“Maybe the goal isn’t to wait for calm before we create progress… maybe it’s to create a little calm by making progress.”

So this isn’t a post about having it all figured out. It’s about trying to move forward in spite of the chaos — about finding a rhythm that works when life is loud, messy, and exhausting. Because maybe the goal isn’t to wait for calm before we create progress… maybe it’s to create a little calm by making progress.

Spoiler: The ‘Right Time’ Doesn’t Exist

Do you ever find yourself waiting for the “right time” to finally do ‘the thing’? The house will be quiet, you’ll be full of energy after a miraculous eight hours of sleep, and you’ll have conquered Laundry Mountain. Yeah… in your dreams.

In reality, there’s always something that needs doing before we can work on our own stuff. We either can’t prioritise our needs over everyone else’s, or when we finally do snatch a rare moment of peace, our inner brain goblin pipes up. Suddenly you’re remembering something embarrassing from ten years ago, catastrophising about tomorrow, or wondering if you left the oven on.

Experience has taught me that the “right time” never really arrives. And honestly? Even if it did, I’d probably miss it because I’d be too busy waiting for it to be even more perfect. We have to settle for time that’s simply good enough.

“We’re not waiting for perfect conditions. We’re just looking for good enough ones.”

Maybe the laundry still needs folding, maybe your kids are being noisy, or maybe you’re knee-deep in a YouTube rabbit hole about notebooks (which, erm, has definitely never happened to me). But it’s in those moments we need to give ourselves a gentle kick up the backside and remember — we’re not waiting for perfect conditions. We’re just looking for good enough ones.

When Exhaustion Becomes the Default

We want to make progress — at work, in our creative projects, even in our social lives — but sometimes we're just too exhausted to care. We might have spent the day being ranted at by a pushy boss, juggling family drama, doing chores, or dealing with the general day-to-day bullshit that never seems to end. When we finally sit down to do something for ourselves, our brains "nope out" — and we end up going to bed after yet another day of not "doing the thing."

Evenings are my danger zone. I'll plan to do something creative, work on my blog, or read a book… but exhaustion kicks me square in the face, and I'm horizontal on the sofa once again, vegging out in front of YouTube productivity videos while, ironically, being anything but productive. At 9am I was full of ambition; at 10pm I'm full of regret.

My inner brain demon tells me that I'm not a productive person — that I might actually be lazy. But in reality, I'm just worn out. Mental exhaustion is a bugger. It doesn't always show itself in obvious ways; it sneaks in as distraction, demotivation, or procrastination (and sometimes, yes, sheer physical exhaustion).

“Motivation follows action, not the other way around.”

I keep hearing that you should "work with your energy, not against it." And it's good advice… in theory. But what if you can't even tell when your energy shows up anymore? I'm trying to pay more attention to those small windows where I don't feel completely drained — even if they're short or random.

And here's something I know from studying CBT (even if I don't always manage to apply it): taking the tiniest action can actually create a bit of energy, rather than draining what little I have left. Motivation follows action, not the other way around.

I know this. I've read it a dozen times. And yet...

On those nights when I'm face-down in the sofa cushions, reminding myself of this rarely helps. But occasionally — just occasionally — I manage to do something absurdly small. Open a notebook and scribble two thoughts. Read one paragraph. Anything that breaks the cycle of what I call "procrastivity" — that special kind of productive research (hello, YouTube rabbit hole) that never quite turns into actually doing the thing.

When it works, even the smallest action does crack open a tiny bit of momentum. The trick is bridging the gap between knowing this in theory and actually doing it when you're exhausted. I'm still figuring that part out... but at least I'm trying.

Five Minutes is Still Progress

Those little golden nuggets of micro-productivity mean I can go to bed without chastising myself for being lazy once again. It’s proof of that “action gives you motivation” loop. Plus, there’s something very satisfying about doing the thing you said you’d do — ticking that little box on a to-do list genuinely gives you a hit of dopamine.

For me, that might mean reading a few paragraphs of a non-fiction book, scribbling notes about something new I’ve learned, or jotting down a rough plan for a blog idea.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes these little wins feel like I’m just trying to convince my brain that I’m being productive when I’m really not. But when I look back over a few evenings, I realise those small wins do add up — and I can metaphorically give myself a little pat on the back.

A Little Chaos, A Little Calm

I’m starting to realise that progress isn’t about having total control — it’s about showing up for those tiny wins amidst the chaos of everyday life.

“Progress isn’t about having total control — it’s about showing up for those tiny wins amidst the chaos of everyday life.”

Redefining what progress means has started to change how I see my days. I’m faced with a little less guilt (yes, it’s still there — old habits die hard) and a little more acceptance. It’s not huge, but it’s still significant — and hopefully life-changing.

As I wrote in a previous post about accepting what you can’t control and embracing what you can: I can’t control when life gives me little pockets of free time, but I can choose what I do with them.

And maybe that’s all progress really is — finding a little calm in the chaos, and doing the next small thing anyway.