I admire people who are consistent. The ones who wake up at the same time every day. Who post on a schedule. Who go to the gym, drink the water, answer the emails, do the skincare, and somehow make it all look effortless. Their lives seem to run on invisible rails, smoothly and predictably, like a well-designed transit system.
I probably have the ability to be consistent. At least in theory. But I feel like I’m missing something. Maybe it’s discipline. Or patience. Or whatever mysterious internal gear allows some people to show up daily without negotiating with themselves first.
Because here’s my typical pattern: I show up in bursts. I sprint. I hyperfocus. I jump in and go full throttle. For a while, at least. Then I slow down. Or I shift gears entirely.
My interest waxes and wanes like the wind. My attention wanders off like a curious cat, chasing whatever new, shiny thing just crossed my field of vision.
It used to bother me more than it does now. I spent years trying to force myself into systems that didn’t quite fit. Habit trackers. Productivity apps. Morning routines designed by people who are definitely not wired like me.
For a long time, I thought that if I just found the right framework, I’d finally become one of those people. The consistent ones. The mythical adults.
But lately, I’ve been wondering if my “consistently inconsistent” method isn’t so much a bug as a feature.
My creativity doesn’t move in straight lines. It loops. It stalls. It surges. I’ll do nothing visible for weeks, then suddenly produce a ridiculous amount of work in a very short time. From the outside, it probably looks like pure chaos. From the inside, it feels more like a rollercoaster or the weather. I can’t control it, but I can learn its patterns.
The real shift is that instead of trying to eliminate my inconsistency, I’m starting to accept it and design around it.
I’ve stopped promising myself steady output and started aiming for sustainable returns. I’ve built looser systems. Fewer rules, more rhythms. Less “you should do this every day forever” and more “hope to cya tomorrow.” Even if I disappear for a bit. Even if I lose the thread. Even if I have to reintroduce myself to my own projects like, “Hi, it’s me again. Sorry for the delay. Shall we get back to work?”
And yet somehow…I still manage to get things done.
Not in the neat, linear way the self-identified productivity “gurus” love. But in a messy human way. In cycles and seasons and waves, the work accumulates. The YouTube channel grows. The Substack stacks up.
The momentum is real, even if the path looks messy on paper.
I think the trick, for me at least, is accepting that consistency doesn’t have to mean uniformity. It can mean persistence. It can mean returning to the scene of a crime. It can mean refusing to quit, even if the pace is strange and the schedule is flexible.
So yes, I’m consistently inconsistent. I start things, pause them, remix them, abandon them, resurrect them, and somehow still keep moving forward in the process.
The process may not be elegant or optimized. But it’s honest. And it’s mine. I’m learning how to listen to my own rhythms instead of fighting them, how to turn my starts and stops into ebbs and flows.
I may never master consistency in the way most of the world defines it. But I’m figuring out what works for me. Slowly and surely….
Keep calm and create on…by any means necessary!
Clint 🌈✌️
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Wow, can I relate. I spent decades trying to find the right schedule so I could be one of those magnificent people with flawless discipline. Aside from showing up at work on the regular, nothing else in my life fit a schedule. Probably something astrological, if you give that any weight. Taoist going with the flow seems to work best for such as we.
Clint, Your "consistently inconsistent” is probably the answer. I have adopted a number of sound bites for myself, some are polar opposites: Minamal Maximalist or Maximal MInimalist, I make sense out of nonsense, and from La Cage aux Folle, "I am what I am"! Fondly, Michael