How I deleted my way out of brain fog and into absolute focus and clarity for 2026.
We are taught that productivity is about more. More tasks, more goals, more output. But as I hit the end of 2025, I didn’t need more. I was drowning.
Last November, my body staged a biological protest. For five straight days, I was hit with a brain fog so thick I could barely bring myself to open my laptop. I was numb, frustrated, and honestly, terrified. I sat there wondering, “Is this it? Is this the end of this chapter? Have I gone as far as I can go?”
It was my “Work F*%k-It Point.” I realized I wasn’t burnt out on the work itself; I was burnt out on the baggage. I decided right then that I would not carry this weight into 2026. I gave myself 30 days to get aligned so I didn’t have to carry that baggage with me.
Here is how I spent December deleting my way back to my life.
The Weight of 1,500 “Somebodies”
When I finally got honest with myself and opened my iCloud notes, I found 1,500 notes. Many were duplicates—ideas I’d written down three or four times because I was trying to force something that didn’t feel natural. I was obsessed with the perfectionism of building a “well-oiled machine” instead of just letting the machine run and fixing the squeaky wheels as I went.
By trying to do everything, I was effectively doing nothing. It felt more natural to delete them than to keep them.
The “90-Day Alignment” Filter
To clear the wreckage, I developed a ruthless criteria. I asked myself three questions about every single task:
- Does it get me closer to my goal?
- Does it bring me joy?
- Has it moved in the last 90 days?
If it had been sitting there for three months without movement, it wasn’t aligned. Period. If it were truly important, I would have done it already. For those of you scared to hit delete: trust the process. If a task is meant to be done, it will find its way back to you in a different, better form. But for now? Let it go. It’s just taking up mental space.
Admitting I Needed a Better Container
Here is the “do as I say, not as I do” moment: I coach people on this for a living, yet I was trying to do it all myself.
I finally realized that having the right container to store your tasks is more important than the tasks themselves. If you can’t find them, organize them, or prioritize them, you’ll never do them in the first place.
I hired a Notion expert to help me build a customized system that aligns with how I actually think. I think out loud, and I needed a second set of eyes to help me create an outline that made sense. Bringing in an expert allowed me to get the ideas out of my head and into a system that actually works for my team of three. It provided the clarity I needed to get the work built faster.
The 6:00 AM “Tiny Burst” Strategy
Once I had the system, I had to face the “scary” tasks. The irony? The tasks I had been avoiding the most were actually the easiest.
I had been looking at 50 tiny tasks as one giant, insurmountable mountain. To beat the “shiny object syndrome” and the distractions of the day, I started my mornings at 6:00 AM. In the quiet of the early morning, before the world could distract me, I grabbed tasks at random.
Each completed task provided a tiny burst of energy that pushed me to the next one. When you stop looking at the bucket and start taking each item out one by one, you move surprisingly fast.
The Result: A Calm 2026
By January 1st, the anxiety was replaced with a sense of direction I haven’t felt in years.
Subtraction gave me more focus than completion ever could. I stopped trying to do everything and started prioritizing what actually brings me joy and moves the needle. Now that the deck is clear, my maintenance plan is simple: stay consistent, keep the list from bloating, and use that efficiency to find room for the projects that truly matter.
Your 90-Second Challenge
You don’t need a month-long retreat to start this. You just need a moment of honesty.
Find one thing on your to-do list that has been sitting there for more than 90 days. You know the one. It’s been staring at you, making you feel guilty every time you see it.
Delete it. Don’t move it to a “later” list. Don’t archive it. Delete it. Feel that tiny burst of relief? That’s the feeling of your “next mountain” finally coming into view.
