38. Impossible To Satisfy

She was getting a lot done. She knew this because she was devoted to her work and she was always busy. Her productivity was higher than it had ever been and her projects were finally moving forward in a big way. Every evening, she would review her efforts and note with pleasure the measurable results she had achieved.

Her progress was impossible to discount, but still she felt she wasn’t doing enough. She kept worrying that her current pace wouldn’t be enough to reach her goals, at least not before she had expended her meagre resources. But when she took the time to map out her progress more carefully, it looked like she was still on track. She would be able to make it as long as she sustained her current effort.

But could her effort be sustained? This was the other side of her recurring worry. Did she really have the stamina to keep going at her current pace indefinitely? There was no way to know for sure. Her worry wasn’t justified by any evidence. It was the uncertainty itself that bothered her.

She’d been working hard for several months now and it didn’t seem to be wearing her out — at least, not in any way she’d noticed. Still, there was the possibility she wouldn’t last. And that possibility was more than enough to fire up her anxiety.

She told herself there was no way to be completely certain. Not about this or about anything, really. There would always be uncertainty and she’d have to live with it. She kept reminding herself of this, sometimes repeating it like a mantra.

She told herself to stay focused on making further progress. She told herself to ignore the bigger picture and the worry it brought. If she kept doing the work then she would get somewhere. And she was doing the work. Lots of it.

But still she was not satisfied with herself. This she couldn’t understand. Why was it impossible to appreciate the effort she was making? She was doing her absolute best, and she thought she ought to feel satisfied. She ought to, but she simply did not. The more she thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. At last she considered that thinking itself might be the problem, and she decided to stop.