MARGIN

It’s Monday morning, 8:30 am. The sun is making its first appearance for the day. I’m down a single cup of coffee when the anxiety stirs within. I take a deep breath and push the feelings aside. Sipping away the second cup of coffee is easy but the walk to my desk is not…panic awaits.

At 9:00 am, I already feel behind. The to-do list. The entrepreneurial drive. The internal pressure. My inner dialogue spirals.

You’re behind. 

No one is paying attention.

How is the launch going to work if we don’t have a plan?

So much to do, not enough time.

I’m going to miss my chance.

Like the starting gun at a track meet, the rush of adrenaline hits, and I lunge off the starting block into a full sprint. Anxiety drives action in the form of Slack messages, urgent meetings, and a stream of aggressive questions directed at my team. My intentions are good; I want the business to succeed and the team to reach its full potential. But healthy moves rarely come after a string of anxious thoughts. 

My anxiety looks like over-performing—something coaches and bosses often praise. In this mode, I can make big decisions quickly and give team directives like a military general. Part of what makes us entrepreneurs tick is our innate superpower to go and to go fast, but it’s also our kryptonite. For a few militant Monday morning moments, I trick myself into thinking this is the best version of me. 

Spoiler alert…it’s not. 

It took me a long time to realize that overperforming is simply my coping mechanism to escape the Monday morning fear of lacking control. The “Sunday scaries” are just Monday morning anxiety getting a head start. It wasn’t until recently that I truly noticed and addressed this pattern. 

I started implementing new Monday habits. Instead of opening Slack and Gmail first thing in the morning, I seek out beauty and inspiration. I burn off that anxious energy with a walk. Or slow my mind with a book. It’s counterintuitive to the whole “early bird gets the worm” notion, but it keeps me grounded and makes me a better leader.

I create a margin between the anxious feelings and my next move. Enough space to remember the panic is how I feel, not who I am. 

The “scaries” still creep in like clockwork. It’s my signal to zoom out, slow down, and articulate what’s driving me. When I forget to create margin and start spiraling, my team gently reminds me that it’s just Monday morning. 

Mondays are now easier, more enjoyable, and less rushed. Creating margin gives me the wherewithal to act according to my values and access the true source of my potential.