Under-thinking.

I’m a chronic over-thinker.

I find joy in over-analyzing.

I want to see a subject from every angle and mentally go down every possible avenue of a decision in front of me. I strive to do everything in my power to not be caught unaware, uninformed, or unprepared. I want to move with confidence and the only thing I’ve historically found confidence in is my ability to make decisions based on overbearing analysis.

One place I see this clearly is in my shopping habits.

I’m an insufferable browser in stores. I need to look at everything, every option before I make my selection. I can leave no stone unturned. I’ll debate in my head for far too long about the wisdom behind a potential purchase with an endless list of questions like:

Will I use this?

Will this be on sale? Should I wait?

Do I really need it?

Can I find it somewhere else cheaper?

What other alternatives are there?

Should I try to find this secondhand? Do I care enough to go hunting for it?

If I don’t care enough to work to thrift it, maybe it isn’t worth buying new. Doesn’t that say something?

What’s the cost-benefit analysis? What will I lose out on by buying this and not something else?

On and on…

This is why I prefer to shop alone. If I can shield someone from watching me contemplate which dish soap has the best scent to cleaning power ratio for 40 minutes in Target, unscrewing every cap carefully to have multiple whiffs, why wouldn’t I?

I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but living so heavily in my head is getting old. Analysis paralysis is time-consuming and exhausting and keeps me from hitting while the iron’s hot, seizing opportunities and embracing life’s surprise moments.

So I’m working to swing the pendulum to the other side: under-thinking.

It feels like brushing my teeth with my non-dominant hand to actively try to under-think. All my safety nets of detailed observation and contemplation are nonexistent, and that makes me want to throw up. I’m trying to push myself to see an idea and instead of letting it marinate for eight years, just moving forward on the impulse and seeing what happens.

This 30-day blogging challenge has been an excellent exercise in that so far. Before, I’d want to spend weeks dissecting a blog topic, researching and contemplating. But now, I don’t have time to sit on ideas. I have to write them out.

I love Mel Robbins’ tool, The 5 Second Rule. It’s described here as: “The 5 Second Rule is simple. If you have an instinct to act on a goal, you must physically move within 5 seconds or your brain will kill it. The moment you feel an instinct or a desire to act on a goal or a commitment, use the Rule.”

In other words, as soon as you feel an instinct to act on something—asking someone out, going to the gym, calling that person—you count down: 5-4-3-2-1 and like a rocket, you physically jolt yourself into acting on that instinct.

You walk up to that person you find attractive, you put on your workout clothes, you pick up the phone and start dialing.

Mel’s most practical example for where the rule can be applied is waking up in the morning at the first ping of your alarm. This is where she first invented the concept for herself. At the buzz of the alarm, before she had a chance to hit snooze and doze back off, she counted down: 5-4-3-2-1 and thrusted herself out of bed. She reclaimed her mornings from procrastination and started applying the rule to all other areas of her life.

I’ve delved into using the rule and totally believe in its efficacy, but like the over-thinker I am, I enjoy talking and thinking about the 5 Second Rule (and rereading Mel’s book about it) far more than I enjoy applying it.

But that’s not the point and I’m tired of shooting myself in the foot.

What will it profit me to spend all this energy contemplating resources like the 5 Second Rule if I never even see them at work in my life?

That’s like being hungry, Googling recipes for three hours, but never cooking and consuming any of the meals I look up.

I never solved the problem; I just thought about how I could.

I’m reminded again of Cameron’s line in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that I wrote on a few days ago: “I don’t care. I really don’t. I’m just tired of being afraid.”

Cameron’s becoming my beacon for this season of life.