A well-crafted system is an art installation

What if blowing up and refining our systems was not a sign of flakiness, but a pathway to creative joy?

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This past week I spent close to $100 on a new Notion template.

Not just any Notion template; one that came with hours (HOURS!) of tutorial videos and promised to “bring tasks, projects, notes, and goals seamlessly together, creating a truly all-in-one second brain.”

I realize not everyone shares my kid-in-a-candy-store excitement about paper planners, aesthetically-pleasing productivity apps, or a well-designed workflow. But I’ve been powerless against a thoughtfully-crafted organizational tool for decades—so much so that I kept the sales page for this template open in a browser tab for close to a week before clicking ‘purchase’ like a test of willpower to prove to myself that it was something I really wanted, and not just another irresistible shiny object.

Turns out it was something I really wanted.

Even though I’ve already invested in a different (expensive) Notion course years ago. Even though I’m a seasoned Notion user who almost certainly has the skills to build a system like this for herself rather than paying someone else to do it. Even though I don’t NEED-need it.

I clicked purchase with the assuredness of someone who knew what she wanted, spent days arriving at a thoughtful decision, and budgeted the funds accordingly. AND STILL a familiar twinge of self-consciousness cropped up:

Why do I keep investing in new tools—shiny new planners, apps, and templates—instead of just sticking with what I have? What’s wrong with me that I can’t resist a shiny object?

When I think about the times I’ve discovered a shiny new planner or personal knowledge management system and basically become the human equivalent of the starry-eyed emoji, I realize that so much of the excitement is about the chase.

Consciously or not, I think I’ve always had an underlying presumption that someday, I’d find it: my forever system.

The weekly planner, the content creation workflow, the note taking system that seamlessly accommodates my particularities; the thing that stays constant over the long haul, and lets me set down the task of finding a better, more efficient option once and for all. And with each shiny new tool or template I’d find, I’d get a little twinkle in my mind’s eye and think, “This. This will be the one that sticks.”

Of course, each new tool would stick until… it didn’t. Either I’d get bored, or some small element of friction would eventually mean I’d stop using the system consistently, or some shiny new option would catch my eye.

And then of course, the guilt would kick in.

Guilt because… progress is ‘supposed’ to be linear.

Guilt because… abandoning a known quantity for something new and exciting is ‘flaky’ and ‘inefficient’—even if the known quantity feels stale or joyless.

Guilt because… you’re not supposed to blow up something that’s perfectly adequate and go back to the starting line if you don’t have to.

What if it’s all a lie? What if changing our minds, allowing ourselves to be drawn to shiny new tools likes moths to a flame, and letting it all be joyfully inefficient weren’t actually moral failings… like, at all?

What if the urge to blow up our systems and routines every once in a while, wipe the slate clean, and move toward what feels sparkly was not a bug, but a feature?

I’ve gotten so used to characterizing this pattern of getting bored, blowing things up, and starting anew as flaky and chalking them up to shiny object syndrome that I haven’t really stopped to consider that maybe, this is just how I am—and there’s actually nothing broken about it.

Building, rebuilding, and tinkering with the systems I use to organize my notes aren’t just a means to and end, or things I do to support my creative practice; they’re PART of my creative practice.

This is something I’ve only realized recently, but already it’s helping me be noticeably nicer to myself.

Maybe I’m not meant to be the kind of person whose rhythms are static for years at a time. Maybe sticking with one system forever has always been more enchanting in theory than in practice. Maybe the Manifesting Generator in me knows when she’s ready for something new, against all conventional wisdom about efficiency and linear progress. Maybe I get to trust her, and invite her into my creative practice.

We’ve officially entered Virgo season, an ideal time for tidying up and getting things back to good working order. In her book You Were Born for This, Chani Nicholas says of Virgo Moons like your truly:

“A Virgo Moon needs ritual. It may or may not need to be consistent, but the process of refining anything can be soothing to the soul.”

Refining.

I’m leaning into the idea of treating systems refinement as a source of joy, a channel for creative expression, and a way of supporting and nourishing my creative self. And in fact, lately I’ve been playing with this notion (ha! Notion) that part of my creative magic is in my ability to reimagine ways of working, construct new structures through which ideas can flow and become something beautiful, and fine-tune them until they run smoothly—and then eventually when the time is right, knowing when to retire an existing system and create something new.

Systems support creation. They offer a way of capturing and making sense of the things in our minds and hearts, and turning them into something beautiful or meaningful that we can share: pieces of writing, works of art, beautiful spaces in our homes, capsule wardrobes, scrapbooks, community projects… And.

Maybe a thoughtfully-crafted system can be an art installation in its own right.

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💗 Feeling Moved By

“Our journals are altars we bring anywhere. Portable vessels, meaning makers, altars to hope, healing, anger, possibilities, loss, revolution, love, plain and simple joy. And so, our journals can of course be infused with peoples and places. We simply need to bring them to places that matter with the intention of infusing our journals with these vibes. If my mom picks up my journal while standing in her garden, this journal is forever infused with that memory. Across time, space, and unknown realms. If my journal sunbathes next to their strawberries, my journal is now mom and dad’s strawberries. Why? Because it’s my experience. I was there, and I say so.”

I love this idea from

Journal As Altar

of infusing our journals with the people and places we love. Highly recommend reading the full newsletter below.

Going Home to Go Away

🥗 Noticing

I’m on an interesting-salads-for-lunch kick! I’ve been on a quest to eat more veggies, and I notice how much better my body feels when I do. But the thought of making a salad for lunch sounds so… dull? Lately I’ve been throwing Trader Joe’s hot smoked salmon fillet onto a bed of greens with some grape tomatoes, minced shallot, a squeeze of lemon and a drizzle of olive oil for a simple, smoky, satisfying (easy!) lunch. Chef’s kiss. Also wanting to try this, this, and this.

👀 Eyeballing

These paper flowers for the vase I thrifted over the weekend for my office.

🤔 Still Thinking About

I’ve been devouring Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s new podcast Wiser Than Me all summer, and I’d been saving her season one finale—an interview with Carol Burnett—for a worthy occasion. Last week, I decided I couldn’t hold off any longer. It’s every bit as delightful as you’d hope it would be. (Other favorite interviews from season one include Isabel Allende, Ruth Reichl, and Jane Fonda.)

✨ Weekly Dose of Internet Delight

Until next time,
Michelle