If you obsess on 1 thing for 30 days, you’ll achieve more than most people achieve in a year.
If you obsess on 1 thing for 30 days, you’ll achieve more than most people achieve in a year.
The simple move that blow you up forever and get you your big goal
Photo by Kindel Media
It is strange how my mind wanders, flits from one thing to another, never quite settling, always in motion. I sit at my desk, the morning sun slanting through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the floor, and I think of all the things I must do.
The list is long, 11 items, articles to read, research to do, emails to answer, articles to write, mail sequences to create —and I am flailing about in a sea of tasks, each demanding my attention, none of them letting me go.
I used to take pride in the constant motion, in my ability to juggle countless tasks at once. It felt like an art form—a mental dance, moving swiftly from one thing to the next, never resting, always in motion. But now, as I sit here, the weight of all these tasks pressing down on me, I realize it’s just a distraction—a way to avoid committing to what matters most.
The day passes in a blur. I open a document, begin to write, but then a notification pops up—a meeting in ten minutes—and I am off, scrambling to gather my thoughts, to prepare myself for what lies ahead. The document is forgotten, left half-written, and I tell myself I will return to it later. But I know, deep down, that I never will. There is always something else, another task demanding my attention, another pull on my mind.
My operating system is thrashing. A system overwhelmed, trying to do too much, constantly switching between tasks, never quite finishing anything. The thought lingers with me as I sit through the zoom, nodding and smiling, but not really listening, my mind already elsewhere, already moving on to the next thing.
And then, a memory surfaces—about the cost of operating system context switching, how each time you switch tasks, you lose time, lose focus, how it takes longer to regain your place, to pick up the thread of what you were doing. I feel a pang of recognition, a sense that this is what I have been doing all along, moving from task to task, never really finishing, never really focusing, always in motion, but getting nowhere.
I wonder if I am doing anything at all, really, or if I am just going through the motions, pretending to be productive, when all I am doing is exhausting myself, wearing myself down to nothing.
It is late afternoon now, the light outside growing softer, the shadows longer. I sit at my desk, the unfinished tasks on my list before me, and a deep weariness settles on me. I know I cannot go on like this, cannot keep thrashing, switching from task to task, never finishing, never focusing. Something must change, but I do not know what.
And then, as if in answer to my silent question, I remember an essay I read by Tim Denning, something about doing one thing absurdly well. Tim spoke of mastery, of dedicating oneself to a single pursuit, of becoming obsessed with it, to the point of being world-class. The idea struck me then, but I pushed it aside, thinking it was not for me, that I was too busy, and had too many things to do. But now, sitting here, surrounded by the detritus of my day, the half-finished tasks, the endless to-do list, I wonder if I was wrong.
Tim wrote:
Most people fail at their big goals because they lack:
Intensity
Urgency
Obsession fixes these problems. When you’re obsessed you do work you can’t stop thinking about. It takes over your life.
Instead of having multiple piss-weak goals that have the energy of a bee’s d*ck, you have one big goal that has the force of a tornado. You’re never the same again.
Could it be that I have been trying to do too much, spreading myself too thin, never allowing myself to truly focus, to truly excel at anything? The thought is disturbing, but also, in a strange way, liberating. What if I just let go of all these other things, all these tasks that pull me in so many directions, and focus on just one thing? What if I could become world-class at that one thing, could pour all my energy, all my passion into it, and see it through to the end?
The idea takes hold of me, and I feel a spark of something—excitement, perhaps, or maybe just relief. I know it will not be easy, that it will require discipline, focus, and a willingness to say no to other demands on my time. But I also know, deep down, that this is what I need, what I have been searching for all along—a way out of the thrashing, the endless motion, a way to find meaning, purpose, in my work.
Shabbat approaches, and with it, a new resolve. I close my MacBook, clear the endless notifications from WhatsApp, Slack, X and LinkedIn, and I sit quietly for a moment, breathing in the calm that comes with knowing what I must do.
It feels like coming home, after being lost for so long.
I am ready to do one thing absurdly well, to master the art of doing just one thing.
How my operating system started thrashing
I sold my clinical data management company 9 months ago. Having my freedom felt great. Having the time to do what I love was wonderful.
I decided to write a book and run a program for people aged 45-60 working in tech to help them turn their expertise into independence with a profitable side-gig.
That’s when things got out of control.
I practiced saxophone for an hour/day, I did Qigong an hour/day, I took a writing class, wrote the first draft of my book (Bob and Alice - an anti-love story), wrote daily posts on X and LinkedIn and took a Medical Neuroscience course on Coursera, which consumed 30 hours/week for 4 months. I got an 86 on the final. I designed an 18 week system for people aged 45-60 and wrote 2 eBooks; one on what to do and a bonus eBook on what not to do. I got involved with 3 friends to build a CRO composed of AI workers that would displace 80% of the work of a conventional CRO. I joined the board of My Piece of the Puzzle; an NGO that works with thousands of at-risk and special needs children to integrate them into society. I am a regular Torah reader in our local synagogue and I’m involved with JRV - The Jordan River Village for children with serious diseases. Once a week, I volunteer at the local physiotherapy clinic. I write my substack newsletter on making better decisions every Friday. I have not missed a weekly post for 50 weeks.
It’s no wonder, my operating system is thrashing.
I didn’t achieve my big goals: the book and the program for people aged 45-60.
I betrayed myself.
How do you end up betraying yourself?
If you’re a high performance person, you’re expected to multi-task and deliver.
You’re expected to be always-on.
You’re expected to take on more responsibilities and more tasks.
As you move from task to task, your brain needs to switch context.
To use an operating system analogy; context switching is an inherently expensive operation because it requires restoring the state of your work and memory every time you switch to a different task.
When your system is thrashing, the pile of context switches eventually creates an impossible-to-meet demand for memory resources and CPU.
Your system just grinds to a halt.
And this is before context switches caused by digital distractions from mobile and social media.
A 2001 study by Dr. Gloria Mark, a professor at the University of California, Irvine, who researches digital distractions and their impact on productivity. In her research, Dr. Mark found that after an interruption, it can take an average of about 23 minutes and 15 seconds for a person to return to their original task.
Every 5 tasks requires 2 hours of context switching costs.
Digital creators are always on social media. Every 8 task on social media requires another 3 hours of context switching costs.
If you work on 1 big goal and do 1 session on social media (related to your big goal), you’ll only pay a context switching tax of 46 minutes.
My social contract with you
I hereby declare:
My big goal is my book.
For the next 30 days I will do nothing but wake up, eat, work on my book, exercise, and sleep.
By Friday Sep 29, I will publish my book.
Rules:
No alcohol
No junk food
No video games
No startup porn
No phone (distraction machine)
No social media (except posting content related to my big goal - the book)
It’s a period of extreme focus for me. Hold me accountable!