185. On managing the madness
There's something about measuring things that feels almost innate to me, as though my brain is hardwired to seek out systems and structure. Oddly enough, I’ve always thought of myself as a disorganized person - an impression reinforced by my mother’s endless exasperation over the chaos my siblings and I left in our wake in our household (and still do). Yet, when I take a step back, I realize I have a knack for bringing order to things: organizing people, coordinating events, and tidying up the intangible. A life project manager, if you will.
It’s funny how the labels we carry from childhood don’t always fit when we grow up. “Messy” was definitely one of mine, and to be fair, I earned it. My bedroom often looked like the aftermath of a small hurricane, with a bunch of paper strewn all over, piles of books, clothes everywhere. I've been trying my best to organize my closet (I dislike this chore abundantly...), Now, when I look at my life as an adult, I see someone who can’t help but bring order to chaos- whether that’s categorizing my notes in Notion, coordinating schedules, asking people to schedule out a When2Meet or LettuceMeet, or even mentally mapping out the most efficient way to grocery shop. Somewhere along the way, I got a feel for organizing things, not like Marie Kondo style, but in my own way.
Maybe it’s my background in science. In science, everything gets measured or quantified, classified, and charted, especially in geology. You don’t just see a rock; you see its grain size, mineral composition, and place in a grander geological story of earth. Every detail matters, every layer adds meaning, and there’s an inherent satisfaction in uncovering how all the pieces fit together.
Classification of clastic rocks and sediments based on the Udden-Wentworth grain size chart. Modified after USGS Open-File Report 2006-1195 via wikipedia.org.
I think that habit of measuring things spilled into other parts of my life. I’m constantly organizing not just physical stuff, but also concepts, ideas, and relationships. I like to set up a shared Google Doc to plan a weekend trip. I think I thrive on turning vague plans into something concrete, functional, and operational. There’s a sense of accomplishment in watching order emerge from what was once a tangle of uncertainty. Although, I think I still have a lot to learn about making something functional, operational, and orderly. Maybe some things can be left as is?
There’s a certain comfort in it, right? Measuring and organizing help make the abstract- tangible. It gives me a way to handle the big, unstructured mess of life. I think this is why I find myself drawn to work that requires clarity and structure. When something starts as a jumble of ideas and ends as a polished final product, it feels like magic (a very systematic, step-by-step kind of magic, but still magic to me... that's what magic is, right? Wonder?).
Of course, I’m not perfect. Nobody is perfect at all. For every spreadsheet in my life, there’s a pile of unfolded laundry sitting somewhere, mocking me. For every precise playlist name with curated music to each list, there's a pile of dishes. I definitely don’t have it all figured out. And I really think that's okay.
I don’t know sometimes. There’s also another side to all this- being a little too robotic, too caught up in the endless loop of optimization for optimization’s sake. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking everything can be fixed with the right system, the right plan, or the right tool. But life isn’t always a tidy checklist, and people certainly aren’t problems to solve.
There have been moments where I’ve overplanned to the point of exhaustion, and there have been moments where other people have overplanned and when things get awry, what happens then? Is the effort to make something “perfect” end up being bad and the interruptions to the day eventually drain the joy out of everything? A weekend trip meticulously organized can lose its spontaneity. A Google Doc for every little thing can feel like overkill. Sometimes I catch myself optimizing something that doesn’t really need optimizing, and I wonder- am I really making my life easier, or am I just giving myself more work disguised as productivity?
I had a conversation with my friend the other day. It was more of a cerebral, conceptual conversation about how we rationalize ourselves, I guess.
M: “I see a lot of people talk about mental health and mental suffering, a lot more than we did in the past. Compare it to just 10 years ago: people talked about stress and burnout, but not depression, ADD, neurodivergence etc. etc. Trying all sorts of remedies, from elaborate theories on why things go wrong, various forms of therapy to microdosing on fly agaric. I guess my first thought is something along the lines of ‘Is it that bad or are we making it that bad?’ "
"Which sounds super insensitive, I don't mean to say that people with ADD, bipolar etc. are faking it, but I do feel it can become a bit of a cop out…"
K: "I see. Maybe it’s good that we have the open space to talk freely about the negative things we deal with. But perhaps I think we, ourselves, are making it bad, to be honest."
"If you're struggling with something in life, you have mental dissonance, hard time in specific situations, we immediately go to rationalization to justify it so that we don't have to deal with it”
“I think there’s an awareness paradox in my opinion and there’s more people likely to catastrophize?”
“Yeah I agree.”
“But I don’t think the first line of defense is to straight diagnose ourselves into categories, our feelings are way too complex and placing ourselves into little boxes to make it more simpler or “more efficient” won’t help in the long run.”
“It starts as a way of rationalizing or justifying your behavior - which is fair, it's uncomfortable to have dissonance between how you want to be and how you are - and then the labels reinforce the belief that this is how you are.”
“In my opinion, I truly think we’re currently experience a societal over-correction because of the many many years of stigma surrounding mental health. Although, I think it’s good we experience the extremes. So we understand that things are better in balance.”
“Do you agree / somewhat agree that most people consider life to be something that can be perfected, or at least optimised, and so mental suffering is something to eliminate or reduce?”
“Life shouldn’t be something to perfect that seems just… impossible”
There’s the human side of it all. Not everything can be measured or sorted neatly into categories. Relationships, emotions, and even our own mental health are messy, unpredictable, and often refuse to be boxed into a tidy framework. To be honest, in my own romantic life, I’ve been pretty open-minded in terms of who my partner is, but they are pretty kind and interesting people for the most part. Trying to manage everything can sometimes make me feel disconnected, as though I’m standing a step outside of my own life, analyzing instead of living.
Despite my tendencies, I’m still learning how to make systems that truly work for me and for others. Personally, organization isn’t just about creating order for its own sake- it truly is about ensuring it serves a purpose, whether it’s practical and not just pretty. It's always about refining the balance between making things streamlined and keeping them flexible enough to adapt when life inevitably throws in a curveball. Sometimes, the need to organize can slowly seep into overthinking. There’s a fine line between planning and spiraling, and I occasionally stumble over it. But even then, I remind myself that the management isn't about controlling everything- it's about creating a sense of balance. Organization is a tool, not shackles. In a way, it’s a continuous process of discovery- a constant tweaking and perfecting to find the most functional and orderly solution.
I also think there’s an element of connection to it. Organizing isn’t just about efficiency; it’s really about making things better for others. When organizing an event or tidying up a shared space, it's showing you care. It’s a quiet way of saying, “Here, let me make this easier for you.” I’ve noticed this tendency even in my relationships- I’m the one nudging people toward solutions or suggesting practical steps when they feel stuck. I’ve been called a “manager of chaos” more than once, and I don’t mind it. There’s something deeply satisfying about helping others untangle their own knots, even when I can't untangle my own sometimes.
So, yes, I have a tendency to organize and measure. Maybe it’s partly who I’ve always been, partly what life has trained me to do. And while my childhood self would probably roll her eyes at the idea of spreadsheets being “fun,” I like to think she’d also appreciate how far I’ve come. After all, even a chaotic mess can learn to balance and build something solid. Especially when they're publishing their rolling thoughts into a digital space like a blog.
~ manager of chaos,
<3 K