JUDY EMERSON Author and Personal Coach

I was sitting in church the other day when I had the intrusive thought: “Do you think you have a limitless span of time available to you?” I think that was God talking to me.

I could get hit by a bus tomorrow.

I have an expiration date, like everybody else. I don’t think about it much, and I have a hunch I’ll live a long life—but my hunch could be mistaken, as so many of my hunches have been. There’ll come a day when there aren’t any more days. All too often, though, I behave as though there must be a future of endless possibility in front of me. Because the goals I cherish most are not the actions I prioritize most days.

“Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today,” is most often attributed to Benjamin Franklin. That advice didn’t get much airplay in my head, and I developed a pattern of procrastination early on—a pattern that has bitten me in the butt many times in my life.

My earliest, fondest hopes to achieve the fruition of my lifelong dreams always pointed to being a writer, ever since I discovered books. I always yearned to have my voice be heard, and writing was a path to that experience. Yes, I’ve already published three books—two versions of my memoir, plus my first novel. I’m proud of those.

But now. Now, there’s another book that has been simmering inside me for several years. I also have intentions (and several chapters already written) to create a prequel to the novel I published in 2024. But that’s not what is taking up space in my brain and demanding to be written now. The big goal now is another vulnerably personal nonfiction book, about my current-day journey.

Procrastination, avoidance, stalling, shilly-shallying, vacillation, and fence-sitting kept me from writing term papers till the last possible moment, kept me from giving thought to what my family would eat for dinner until late afternoon, kept me from accomplishing ordinary household tasks, and made for a very messy, ineffective life, for many decades. I’ve always, habitually, deferred challenging tasks, even what I identify as priorities, in preference to doing other things—things that seem “easier”—like reading novels, playing word games on my phone, doomscrolling Facebook, or binge-watching TV, almost none of which will be of any value to anyone twenty-four hours later. I do so much of that “easier” stuff that I very often I don’t get around to more significant goals. Maybe the greater the significance, the more that goal is intimidating to approach.

I know I’m not alone in this habit, but I have trouble enough trying to change myself.  Oops, that’s the thing. I can’t do it on my own—I need help.

Writing is that kind of struggle for me. I love to write, and still—I do it in fits and starts and stops. Journal-writing is how I problem-solve, how I release stress, how I meditate, and how I pray. I find great satisfaction in articulating ideas on the page, and in discovering the answers to my questions in the process. It’s like God speaks them into my mind as the words flow out from my pen. I am frequently in awe of the rightness of the words that show up on the page. Where did that nugget come from? Writing taps into something bigger than me, which can be scary. God, is that you?

Writing is raw and real (when I let it be), honest and vulnerable, as it opens doors I didn’t know were closed, reveals to me truths I didn’t feel prepared to see, including my own weaknesses. Surprise!

So, lately I’ve been struggling with procrastination—avoiding the plunge into the daunting task right in front of me. The job I have assigned myself, and I think God is assigning me, is to take four years of my own hand-written journaling (already produced, more than 300 pages–see photo) and turning them into an actual published book. It will be, eventually, the inspiring story that has been showing up on those scribbled pages, of my astonishment, awe, relief, healing, and imperfect recovery from the insanity of my addiction to compulsive overeating. What I’ve written describes the changes in me that are the result of working a twelve-step program, first articulated by Bill W and the earliest members of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Yes, there’s also a program for people who can’t seem to just “eat normally”—and I’m a member. Like AA, it’s a spiritual program, because it’s never just about the food (or whatever substance or process addicts seize as escape mechanisms), it’s about help for our spiritual maladies. I’m excited about how God is changing me, and about sharing the story in this embryonic book. It’s an expression of my experience, strength and hope which will, when completed, give me great satisfaction and joy to share. And very possibly it will be a great help to a lot of other people who have similar problems—just look at the statistics on obesity and other eating disorders, and their health risks. All of that is of great significance to me, whether or not I’m ever a best-selling author. The point is to finish writing the book. I know I can do that; I’ve done exactly this process before.

There’s a lot of work ahead of me in this “finishing” phase.

What I’m pondering as I’m composing this little essay about my procrastination is HOW to move get myself past the avoidance that keeps me from my cherished goal. I’ve been fighting myself, trying to push myself into action, and I still keep stalling. I’m not cooperating with myself. This is its own special kind of insanity. I don’t have a magic word to dissolve the block I create for myself.

But this moment, I see the direction where help lies. It’s not me, pulling myself up by my bootstraps. I’m powerless over the dismantling of my own habitual procrastination.

Step two of the twelve-steps: “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” It was a power greater than me that took away the craving for sugary foods in one fell swoop six months ago. That change came after I prayed persistently for willingness—to allow something to happen that I couldn’t make happen in my own strength. Since that day, I walk past the doughnut case in Circle K with no notice. The pastries arrayed on my church’s “fellowship hour” buffet do not call to me. I’ve abused that category of caloric products for decades, but for today, that’s not my food. I’m as surprised as anyone that the temptations have been silenced. But I have come to believe.

My procrastination creates a block to God’s action in my life. God’s showing up in my journaling is why I even have a book to write. God gifted me with whatever qualities are in my character that make me able to articulate the insights God keeps showing me. I have to get out of my own way, and get out of God’s way, for the book to become a reality. And I need the willingness to just start.

God, help me with that. I’m powerless to get going on the work I believe you want me to do. Please give me willingness to open to and receive your help. For today, help me to surrender my old defenses, to allow this book to emerge as You design it to be, in ways beyond my understanding, and beyond my power.

Today is day one.