Walking the Overthinking Out

Do you ever have one of those days when you just feel emotional? When the world feels like too much—too heavy—and you’re not quite sure what to hold on to in order to feel grounded? It doesn’t happen to me often, but I had one of those days yesterday.

There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Yes, I had a pretty stressful meeting at work where I was grilled about the implementation of a rather important feature—but it went well. I appreciated the questions and ideas. After all, I haven’t fully decided how to build it yet.

Nevertheless, the day just felt too much for some reason (maybe hormones?). I was ready to write it off, but before I could sink into unprovoked melancholy, the four-legged responsibility called. With snacks and poop bags secured in my pocket, I took the dog for a walk. The door didn’t quite close behind me yet, and I was grabbing my headphones—ready to numb the ache away (I can be quite dramatic, no doubt about it)—and then it hit me: I had absolutely no idea what to listen to. A clever podcast would only make me feel worse. Music? But what kind? There was no space laft on the proverbial plate for choice paralysis, so the headphones went back in their case.

To confuse my dog a little, I didn’t stick to any of our usual routes. Instead, we explored parts of the neighbourhood we’d never been to before. Birds were singing. The quiet streets reminded me more of a village in Brandenburg than a busy Berlin. With every ten steps, I felt the weight lift from my shoulders.

Learning by doing

The thing about walks is—you can’t really do them wrong, can you? As long as you’re putting one foot in front of the other, you’re doing it right. When you go for a walk without a goal or time pressure, you get to choose your path spontaneously. The walking happens one step at a time. Your decision to move carries you to new places—and some of them can be quite lovely. Like a charming blue house, or a patch of wild and impressive greenery.

I don’t know about you, but starting new things can be hard for me. On the one hand, there’s the excitement of novelty—the hope of creating something—but on the other, beginnings can be scary. Especially when you don’t know how to reach the end result, or when the goal itself is still unclear.

Working on my photography project has been challenging in that way. But I’ve recently discovered that making art is also a way of learning—a way to face the procrastination demons and perfectionist tendencies. I was anxious to start. I spent weeks just thinking about what to do. Finally, after probably every possible thought had been thought and my mind was spinning in circles, I turned down the volume in my brain and started making with my hands. The clarity after all that noise was blissful. The anxieties evaporated, and all that remained were the photos, the materials, and my hands.

Just like with a walk, step by step, picture by picture, the project began to bloom before me. The process became so enjoyable that I stopped worrying about the outcome. I can't wait to share it with you in Łódź in a couple of weeks.

Work can be hard too

Recently, I found myself in a similar situation at work. I just couldn’t start implementing a big feature. Fear of failure paralysed me, and I was honestly ashamed. After so many years of coding, how could I still get this stuck? I had no one to talk to about it, so I started writing all my frustration down. Once I got the initial wave of feelings out, questions began to surface: How could it work? What’s the most basic way to solve the problem? What could I do in 20 minutes?

That’s when I realised—I knew the solution. Something had just been blocking it. I set a timer for 20 minutes, which turned into a few hours, and soon I had a very testable version ready to present. Step by step again. Learning by doing again.

I hope that in the future I’ll be braver—braver to begin sooner, without getting so lost in my head.

If you’ve ever overthought yourself into complete misery, I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you havent, what kind of a miracle brain do you have?

Thanks for reading. Bis zum nächsten Mal!

Wiktoria

PS. In this week's music corner: Khatia Buniatishvili plays Liszt.