If you could predict how much energy you’ll have on Tuesday the week after next, you would be unstoppable. You’d line up all your to-dos and dominoes accordingly, and your activities would always align with your current mood and ability.
Of course, predicting our energy levels far in advance is not a skill we can learn, but even on a day-to-day basis or from one hour to the next, it would be incredibly valuable—and even on those small time frames, I’m not so sure.
This morning, I woke up realizing I still struggled with a cold. I did, however, feel a bit more lively than yesterday. Full of motivation, I started planning my day. I rushed to do my workout, get fresh air into the house, brush my teeth and shave. I felt all geared up and ready, excited to grab a coffee, hack away at my keyboard, and go go go. But then, by the time I was done washing my hair, I felt kind of woozy.
The sudden switch in energy caught me by surprise. Nonetheless, I had to move slower. I had miscalculated. Next orders of business? Making tea instead of coffee, getting dressed at a snail’s pace, and then praying the writing gods would be generous. Spoiler alert: They weren’t. I am 47 minutes into my writing session, and this is attempt number two. I just popped in a cough drop to give the old metabolism some sugar, and I doubt even a quarter of my original plan will materialize today.
Of course, my current impression of how much energy I’ll have throughout the day might be just as wrong as my original guess when I woke up. For all I know, I could be lifting heavy rocks at dinner time or go completely horizontal after lunch. It’s a great mystery, this energy-o-meter, and as maddeningly frustrating as it can be, it’s also part of the fun.
How nice would it be to know exactly when and where you’ll be sick? Then again, that also sounds terrifying. How sad would it be to never feel a spontaneous rush of inspiration? That also sounds kind of terrifying.
Perhaps, our failure to anticipate our energy is just as it should be. Maybe it’s life’s mechanism to keep us in the moment. To teach us to use every morsel of energy right when and where we have it, and to not expect any more than we’ve been given. To rest when we need rest, and trust that the rest will fall into place.
I think for today, that’s just what I will do. Will I accomplish something great or nothing at all? Nobody knows, but I will tune into my energy, moment to moment, minute to minute—and maybe that’s what trying to anticipate our energy levels was about all along.