2 AM thoughts on learning to slow down and find joy in the process
I thought today would start with sleeping in, but here I am at 2 AM, wide awake with my mind racing. There’s this familiar restless feeling I get when it seems like I’m running out of time on something important, you know?
These past couple weeks have been intense around our house. We’ve been working on projects everywhere – gave our daughter’s room a complete surprise makeover while she was at camp, did this massive decluttering sweep of furniture that’s been accumulating for years, and finally started on those yard projects I’ve been daydreaming about for months.
While I’m genuinely excited about all these changes, I kept finding myself caught between this overwhelming need to hurry and actually enjoying what I was doing. It was like I was stealing my own joy.
The Countdown Pressure
With our daughter away at camp for 18 days, I knew I wanted to get most of these projects done before she came home. She knew her room would be a different color, but had no idea about the new furniture and other surprises waiting. When she walked in yesterday, she seemed happy with the changes, but it was her reaction to the bathroom that got that classic excited squeal. That unexpected bonus ended up being the real winner.
But here’s the thing – I had this finite timeline pressing on me. Eighteen days minus work and other commitments. Plus I’d rented this big unit for hauling away construction debris and old furniture, which had its own deadline. And somewhere in the middle of all this, I decided to start a garden with plants that needed to get in the ground soon or they’d die.
Everything felt urgent. Everything felt like it had to happen now.
My All-or-Nothing Problem
This is totally my pattern – I get excited about something and dive in headfirst. Usually I can keep up the momentum long enough to push through to the end, or at least muscle through that “I don’t want to do this anymore” phase until it’s done. My perfectionist brain takes over, which creates this weird internal tension, but things generally get finished fast… and then completely abandoned for months.
Sound familiar to anyone else?
I realized I was doing that thing we all do – telling myself “as soon as this is done, I can relax.” But I’ve made that promise to myself so many times and either broken it or been too wound up to actually relax when the time came. I’d just be looking around for the next thing that “had to get done.”
The Garden Taught Me Something
When I was planning the garden areas, I knew they’d bring such satisfaction once completed, plus clear out both physical and mental clutter. But the bigger vision – the full garden I was imagining – couldn’t possibly happen in 18 days. It would take time. Patience. Waiting for things to grow.
Yet even knowing this, I kept feeling like I had to do everything immediately: put down all the weed barrier, buy every raised bed I’d eventually need, get all the soil and mulch in one massive shopping trip. Just thinking about it was exhausting.
That’s when something clicked.
What Actually Worked
I started sorting my projects into two categories: “Time Crunch” (like my daughter’s room and that rental deadline) and “Ongoing” (like the garden and other long-term home improvements).
When I caught myself trying to rush the ongoing stuff, I’d stop and ask: Why does this feel urgent right now?
Most of the time, it was just habit. Sometimes there really was a piece that made sense to tackle alongside the time-sensitive work, but I’d set clear boundaries about when to stop.
This simple shift changed everything.
Learning to Love the Wait
Taking things in smaller pieces actually makes everything more sustainable. It’s like having a daily reminder of where you’re headed without the crushing pressure to get there immediately. You build consistency, which builds resilience, and somehow there’s more room for actually enjoying the process.
The 2 AM wake-ups still happen. That restless feeling when something feels unfinished still hits. But I’m learning that sometimes the most important thing you can do is slow down and trust that not everything has to happen on your timeline.
I’m starting to see this shift help with other areas too – eating better, moving more, being more present with family, keeping less stuff around the house. Small, consistent changes instead of dramatic overhauls that burn me out.
What I’m Learning About Joy
Here’s what I’m figuring out: pushing hard to accomplish massive amounts in short bursts isn’t sustainable. It’s not healthy. And it definitely doesn’t leave room for joy in the process.
I’m learning to make the waiting part of the plan. To trust that good things take time to develop, whether it’s a garden, a relationship, a skill, or just a more peaceful way of living.
The projects will get done. Maybe not all at once, maybe not on my original timeline, but they’ll get done. And maybe, if I’m patient with the process, I’ll actually enjoy getting there.
Anyone else struggle with the “everything must happen now” feeling? I’d love to hear how you’ve learned to slow down and find joy in the process.
Sprinkle some joy in the comments! 🎨