Not Every Day Is a Power Day (And That’s Fine)
By Sophie Makonnen
A Familiar Feeling
This blog started with two conversations I had just a few days apart with two friends this week, which prompted me to write a post on social media about productivity at work. It got me thinking, and I decided to make it the subject of my next blog.
My two friends live in completely different parts of the world and lead very different lives. They come from different generations and backgrounds. One is starting something new, while the other is juggling numerous responsibilities. They don’t know each other and are at different stages, but both shared the same thought with me:
“I didn’t get anything done today.”
“I was unproductive.”
“The whole day just felt like a waste.”
I know both of them well. They’re thoughtful, creative, and committed. They usually get things done. Still, like many of us, they have days when nothing seems to work. Sometimes the work is unclear or delayed, or they simply lack the energy.
These are also the kinds of reflections I often hear in coaching sessions. People share, with exasperation or sometimes discouragement, that they are not “using” their time well or haven’t accomplished everything they hoped to. The words may differ, but the feeling is the same: a vague discomfort, as if something important had slipped through their fingers.
There’s this idea that we should always be plugged in, always powered, always performing. These feelings of not doing enough don’t come out of nowhere. We’ve internalized the belief that productivity should be visible, measurable, and steady.
But should it?
What I call the Myth of Linear Productivity
We are not meant to operate like machines, at the same pace, with the same focus, and the same output, hour after hour, day after day.
And yet, many of us have internalized the idea that being consistent means being uniform. That a “good” day at work should look the same as yesterday’s, with clear deliverables, high energy, and measurable results. Anything less can feel like we’re falling behind, slacking, or not delivering enough.
But work, especially when it involves problem-solving, planning, creativity, or supporting others, among other things, rarely fits into neat blocks of time. It doesn’t always flow smoothly from nine to five. On some days, we feel focused and energized, able to think clearly and accomplish tasks efficiently. Other days, we move more slowly. Ideas take longer to come. We might feel distracted, tired, or stretched thin. Our pace changes, but that doesn’t mean we’re not committed or not trying. Perhaps it simply means we’re expecting ourselves to maintain an unattainable standard over the long run.
The Work You Don’t See
On slower days, we often judge ourselves as lazy, unproductive, or wasting time. At best, we tell ourselves, “I need rest. I can’t work all the time.” We acknowledge the need to recover; however, we often overlook the deeper shift that is occurring. Those days often mark a shift in rhythm, a transition from output to integration.
Our brains don’t operate just in two gears—on and off. Neuroscience shows that when we stop focusing—when we let go of task lists, pause the mental pushing, or even zone out—our brain doesn’t go idle. It shifts modes. Behind the scenes, a different system takes over: one that supports reflection, integration, and sense-making. Known as the Default Mode Network (DMN), it becomes active in those quieter moments—linking ideas, accessing memory, and laying the groundwork for insight. It’s not rest in the passive sense. It’s a different kind of engagement—one that helps us build on what we already know, make connections, and prepare for insight beneath the surface of our awareness. It’s not rest as in nothingness—it’s a different kind of work.
The Default Mode Network (DMN)? The DMN is a group of brain regions that activate when we're not focused on the outside world—like when we’re daydreaming, reflecting, or letting our minds wander. It’s not idling; it’s doing behind-the-scenes work, such as connecting ideas, retrieving memories, and making sense of experiences. During these pauses, the DMN helps us process information, allowing us to move forward with greater clarity, insight, and direction.
The DMN is actually very active when we are doing nothing. In fact, it uses a great deal of energy, sometimes more than when we are focused on a task. (Harvard Health Publishing, 2017. The Secret to Brain Success: Intelligent Cognitive Rest). What feels like a slow or unproductive moment can be a period of high internal activity—we just don’t experience it the same way. That’s why answers often arrive when we least expect them: while walking, washing dishes, or doing nothing in particular. I know mine often come in the shower or just before falling asleep! These quieter phases hold the invisible work that carries us forward.
They’re not breaks from the process. They are part of the process.
Leading and Working with Rhythm in Mind
Understanding our rhythms is one thing. Making room for them is another. Even when we understand our energy cycles, our workplaces often fail to accommodate them. Deadlines, meetings, deliverables, these don’t wait. Systems often expect steady output, even when conditions vary. This mismatch quietly pressures us. We keep going, pretending slow days are a problem. We hide our low points and continue to deliver. However, this effort adds up, either because we expend extra energy to maintain appearances or because we judge ourselves when we fall short of our goals. In the end, we expend more emotional and mental energy just to appear steady.
Sometimes, simply noticing where we are in the cycle and naming it without judgment can shift things. It helps us lead with more self-honesty, with more empathy toward others, and perhaps most importantly, with more empathy toward ourselves. Especially on the days when we’re not performing the way we hoped.
That kind of awareness isn’t passive; it requires active attention. It keeps us in contact with what’s happening, even when not planned. It clarifies what’s unfolding, not just what we think should happen. These reflections might help:
· When was the last time slowing down helped something click later?
· Is there a part of you that knows this pace is temporary?
We may not always be able to redesign our systems. However, we can start working with our rhythm, rather than against it.
Here’s how I approach this in practice. I go through periods when I accomplish a lot, and I know slower ones will follow. When I’m focused and moving quickly, I try to create more than I need like writing two blog drafts instead of one or outlining future ideas. Later, when my energy dips, I can draw on that work, almost like dipping into savings. It keeps things moving. I’ve followed this rhythm for years. In earlier roles that required intense cycles of travel, reporting, and team coordination, when I had momentum, I’d plan ahead, knowing I wouldn’t be at my best every week. On slower days, I’d shift to tasks that required less mental effort—such as catching up on emails, checking logistics, or handling day-to-day administrative requests. Occasionally, something urgent would land on my desk, and adrenaline would carry me through. But those weren’t the days for writing or strategic thinking. Looking back, I think I did this instinctively—partly to ease the guilt that came with not always being “on.” And of course, because I had a reputation to uphold. I learned (eventually!) not to overdeliver on my “good days”. 🙂
It's a version of what I described in 'Why Small Wins Matter': breaking work into manageable steps and recognizing that consistency doesn’t always mean the same speed, same output. It means moving with the flow of your own rhythm and learning to trust it.
Rhythm Is Your Ally
Most of us learn to measure progress by meeting deadlines, producing output, and checking off tasks. But real work doesn’t always happen in such a tidy way. Ideas often need time to develop, and insights need room to grow. The energy behind meaningful work isn’t always obvious.
We move through cycles, natural ones. Yet, we’ve learned to ignore them, overriding our rhythms in service of schedules. However, real consistency—the kind that sustains us—has variation built in. Some days are for breakthroughs, while others are for quiet integration. Shifting gears isn’t a failure; instead, it’s an essential part of how we work best.
Honouring your rhythm doesn’t mean you’re less ambitious or less committed. On the contrary, it means you recognize that sustainable performance comes from moving in alignment with your energy, not constantly overriding it. You’re still showing up. Still delivering. But now, you’re doing so in a way that includes the invisible work: reflection, incubation, integration.
When we let go of the idea that we must produce the same results every day, things begin to change. We notice other ways we make progress. Pauses aren’t separate from the process—they’re an important part of it.
Rhythm isn’t something to overcome. It’s something to work with.
Try paying attention to your own rhythm this week. Notice how it changes your work. When you follow your cycles, you might be surprised by what you create.
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