Guy Reams (00:00.77)
This is day 186, getting into a rhythm. Some days it feels though I can't do nothing right. I sit down to work full of good intention, but the minutes slip by in a fog of distraction. Everything feels like a false start. I pick up a task and then I drop it. I reorganize my desk, I check my schedule, I reach for productivity, but I grasp at error. Yet I can remember perhaps only days ago feeling the exact opposite.
Tasks flowed effortlessly from one to the next. I made progress without friction. A rhythm took over and I felt as though I was simply along for the ride. What's the difference between those days? Why does it sometimes feel so easy and other times so hard? I believe the answer lies in a word we often use but rarely examine, and that is a rhythm. When people say they're in a rhythm,
They're usually described in a state where everything is clicking. They're not fighting themselves. There's no mental friction. Movement is smooth. In music, rhythm is not just the beat, it's the foundation. Without rhythm, even beautiful notes collapse into noise. In life, it's the same thing. Without rhythm, even the best intentions seem to fall flat. Rhythm is not just a habit. It's not just a schedule.
It's a relationship with time. It's the art of aligning your internal pace with the demands of the worlds around you. It's when the routines you build match the natural ebb and flow of your own energy, your own attention, and your purpose. But rhythm doesn't happen by accident. It has to be cultivated. And the first step is noticing when it appears for you. You have to learn what it feels like, what you feel like, when you are in that
What time of day does this tend to occur? What were you doing in the hours before? What was your environment like? There are clues there if you're actually paying attention. Let me describe to you how you one might begin to cultivate this. You could start with a morning routine, not for the sake of checking boxes like I got this done and I got that done, but to establish a tempo such as what I do. I take a walk or go for a run.
Guy Reams (02:22.349)
I do little bit of writing, journaling, and then I try to read something meaningful, something inspirational. I do something predictable and repeatable and deliberate. I don't rush it. I don't make it mechanical. I just, just steady. Then that's when you find your pace for the day. You start your first task, you complete it, and then pause. Don't sprint from one thing to the next. Take a breath. Let your mind settle before you start on to the next thing.
Slowly, you'll begin to find a pattern. Tasks start linking together. Thoughts flow in sequence. You're no longer starting from scratch with each effort. And if you're interrupted, you now know how to return because you've established this rhythm. Like a song that you've heard before, you can pick it back up. You now know the tempo, or at least the feel of it. Rhythm, once found, creates momentum. It reduces the energy cost of decision making.
You no longer ask, what should I do next? You just do it. The groove is there and it carries you forward. And this is the key to sustained productivity, not heroic bursts of effort, but just rhythm. Not just discipline, but alignment. When your mind, your body, your habits, and your environment fall into step, work becomes less like pushing a boulder up the hill and more like walking in stride with something much larger than yourself.
The goal then is not just to chase the peak performance as a rare high. It's to design a life that through routine, through attention and patience, that gives rhythm a chance to show up more often in your life. Because in the end, it's a rhythm that transforms effort into motion and motion into achievement.