Don’t Overthink It: Make Easier Decisions, Stop Second-Guessing, and Bring More Joy to Your Life by Anne Bogel
2020 | ISBN: 0801094461 | English | 224 pages | EPUB | 0.35 MB
We’ve all been there: stuck in a cycle of what-ifs, plagued by indecision, paralyzed by the fear of getting it wrong. Nobody wants to live a life of constant overthinking, but it doesn’t feel like something we can choose to stop doing. It feels like something we’re wired to do, something we just can’t escape. But is it?
Anne Bogel’s answer is no. Not only can you overcome negative thought patterns that are repetitive, unhealthy, and unhelpful, you can replace them with positive thought patterns that will bring more peace, joy, and love into your life. In Don’t Overthink It, you’ll find actionable strategies that can make an immediate and lasting difference in how you deal with questions both small–Should I buy these flowers?–and large–What am I doing with my life? More than a book about making good decisions, Don’t Overthink It offers you a framework for making choices you’ll be comfortable with, using an appropriate amount of energy, freeing you to focus on all the other stuff that matters in life.
I’m scheduled to depart for Nashville in twenty-seven hours, and I can’t stop refreshing the forecast. I have a million things to do before I leave—more than I can possibly accomplish—yet I persist in hitting refresh. I can see it’s not helping; it’s actually making things worse. Yet I keep doing it.
I’m driving south to work on a new project, one I’ve been planning for months. It wasn’t easy to get the date on the calendar, but now it’s finally here. My hotel has long been booked and my workbag is freshly packed. I’ve finalized my itinerary and downloaded a new audiobook for the drive. There’s just one wild card: the weather.
All week long, I’ve been monitoring the volatile storms that threaten to derail my plans. The forecast is not for Southern summer pop-up storms but a massive front coming to blanket the region. My friend first noticed the situation at girls’ night earlier this week. While we chatted and drank half-price glasses of wine, she peered over our shoulders at the silenced meteorologist on the bar’s TV. “Hey, when do you leave for Nashville?” she asked. “That storm does not look good.”
Because we’ve spent dozens of girls’ nights discussing our fears, both rational and otherwise, my friends know I’m an uneasy road tripper even on sunny days, and I abhor driving through storms. And they know how, just weeks before, my family had been caught in the worst thunderstorm I’d ever experienced, right on that same stretch of I-65 I would soon be driving again, solo. We were headed to Florida for our annual beach week; my husband, Will, was behind the wheel. Usually I’d be reassured by his steady presence, but this time even he looked fearful. Construction walls meant we couldn’t pull over, and the radar showed the rain wouldn’t let up for hours. Visibility was practically zero, and I’d told my friends after the fact that it was a miracle we didn’t end up in a hundred-car pileup on the interstate.
“Never again,” I’d said as I recounted the story.
But the five-day forecast made a repeat performance look possible. Maybe likely. “You’d better keep an eye on that forecast,” my friend said.
I’ve taken my friend’s words to heart, perhaps too much. This week I’ve been checking the weather constantly, hoping the storm would dissipate or its path would shift. Neither sunny outcome has materialized.
Instead of fading out, the storm has intensified—along with my anxiety level.
Leaving early isn’t an option. I have work to do at home in Louisville. I’ve also been traveling a lot this season and am not keen on the idea of leaving my family again. I don’t want to miss another family dinner or my son’s big baseball game on what promises to be a beautiful summer night.
But I don’t see how I can drive two hundred miles in the storm.