Dear Reader,

My work often revolves around managing multiple projects simultaneously, like a juggler with many balls in the air.

I’m no miracle worker, and sometimes I can’t even remember how many balls I’m juggling. My hands can push a ball at a time (i.e. work serially on a single project at a time), but my head can’t keep track of all the others that are in the air (i.e. details and even whole topics escape my memory).

The predictable result is that some balls will drop, sooner or later.

Before they fall on the ground and break, I let them fall on a piece of paper.

Out of metaphor, I keep a list of all the projects I am involved, however small they are. It’s the best first line of defence I have found against the Maelstrom of activities that life and work throw at me. Reviewing the list regularly (at least once a week) is a crucial ingredient of my management system.

What I am describing is nothing more than standard GTD (Getting Things Done) methodology, and I strongly advise you to check it out and study it thoroughly.

However, I’m at a point where some balls are inevitably going to drop; and the piece of paper has already too many items on it to absorb the impact. There is too much going on.

What are the options then?

I know that there is an “invisible ball” that everyone is juggling, even if we are too unaware or prideful to admit it: the ball representing our sanity. I became aware that we often trade our sanity for our work, as I outlined in my post The Slow Incident. Now I am in no want for making that trade, so I have one less option about which balls to let fall.

I am no expert at letting projects drop. I am not good at letting people down. I hardly ever wished a friend farewell. I am afraid it will be a painful experience, and my sense of self-reliance will be undermined. The first balls will land, so to say, right on my feet!

Luckily, just as I was having these thoughts, I stumbled across the book “The 4 Disciplines of Execution” by Chris McChesney, Sean Covey and Jim Huling. Flipping through the first pages, I noticed two topics that could help me: how to deal with the daily “whirlwind” of grinding moment-by-moment activities (what I use to call “The Blender” with my colleagues) and how to focus on the Wild Important Goals.

Since the Blender has become my second home, and since I need some criteria to help the essential project thrive, I think it will be a great read.

Until next time, try not to drop balls, the show must go on.