Tears dripped down my cheeks as I filled our coffee pot with water for its morning brew.

“I want to do EVERYTHING!” I cried to God. “I want to do it all!” 

I was at a crossroads. 

I wanted to write the essay that’d been rattling around in my head for days, whip together a Reel since I’d skipped the last two days, deep clean our kitchen after the weekend, pack my lunch for work tomorrow, continue building my business, and also wash my hair and paint my nails and stretch before bed. It all felt big. It all felt important.

And herein lies the dark side of multi-passionate-ism. Of being easily inspired and finding 138 things I want to do.

Because with my precious hours each day, I am inspired at every turn. I truly do want to do it all:

Bake a cake.
Write poetry. 
Sign new clients.
Enjoy date nights.
Slip into quiet Saturdays.
Strike up social Saturdays.
Host dinner parties.
Go antique shopping.
Read for fun.
Redecorate.
Organize everything. 
Scrapbook.
Support entrepreneurs.
Try new coffee shops.
Travel.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.

I love it all. I want it all. 

But as I stood at the fridge, filtered water and salty tears flooding out, I realized that when inspiration turns into stress or pressure, it’s no longer lifegiving. It’s no longer abundant possibility or wonder or fun. It’s a burden. It’s a scarcity mindset starting to infiltrate my hope-filled heart.

The truth is, I have a limited amount of time. 

I recently heard James Clear say on this podcast that we don’t have 24 hours a day to manage our time—we usually have 1-3 hours a day that we’re not responsible to or for someone else. That’s what we can work with. That’s the time we really have to move the needle forward.

So I’ve been taking a real, hard look at how I spend my time. 

I’m asking if it aligns with the things I really want to do, like build a marketing agency + a thriving marriage + an authentic, deeply-rooted faith + a beautiful home. 

And as I’ve taken inventory, I’ve found that there is actually quite a bit of time that I do have, that I can reclaim, that I can take steps forward with. 

Scrolling for twenty minutes after dinner? While that may be relieving at the time, it usually leaves me with a feeling of dread that I didn’t do what I really wanted to do. Because… I didn’t. Thus, the tears and the coffee pot and the late-night meltdown.

So, I’ve started waking up earlier. I’ve started working before my day job on the things I really want to create and build and grow. I’ve streamlined our meal plan, grocery shopping, and chore schedule so those things aren’t taking up brain space or excess time. I’ve started looking for 15 spare minutes in my weekends between plans—and guess what? I’m finding them.

Repurposing my time has slowly but surely unraveled my mindless habits and reshaped my life. Suddenly, I am building the things I’ve always wanted to build. I am sharing authentic content. I am so noticeably growing a business that acquaintances ask me how it’s going when they see me. 

I’m no longer paralyzed by how I’ll do it all, I’m simply doing one thing at a time, one moment at a time, whenever the moment presents itself. 

Less mindless scrolling, more educational videos on how to build a Notion dashboard. 
Less binging Chicago Med, more working on my branding and website.
Less dillydallying in the mornings, more intentional space to write.

The reclaiming of my time—to go on a walk, to learn something new, to build a website or an offer package or a blog post—has been the antidote to the paralyzing fear that I’m missing out on my own life.

Ultimately, I’m learning what it’s like to take things hour by hour instead of wondering how I’ll possibly get everything done in the next month. Things have shifted as I’ve started using my time wisely today instead of wondering how my five-year plan will ever, possibly happen.

So I repeat to myself: 

I am not running out of time. I am not behind. I am not missing out. There is abundance, goodness, and wonder right where I am, right in what I’m doing. The current moment is enough—it’s good. And so is this multi-passionate-ism. 

As I take steps forward and do what I can with what I have, I’m finding freedom I’ve never known. While wanting to do it all can feel like a curse at times, it’s also a sign that I’m alive, that I hold big visions, and that, by God’s grace, I can help bring them to life. We can do anything 15 minutes at a time, and good news, friend: we can start today.

Post Scripts 

— More thoughts on creating after a 9-5 here—

— My journey with multi-passionate-ism has been a process of becoming the girl God created me to be (and using the time He’s given me). 

— If you want some help reframing your time and strategizing on how to bring your creative and entrepreneurial dreams to life, I’ve helped others get unstuck and I’d love to help you.

— Some notes on paying attention—

— The writing advice I always go back to—

— Bonus: this pepper mill is making cooking way more fun!