A Workday like a Wetland

Build your day like you'd build a wetland. Only then will the wildlife of ideas flourish and the water run clean.

I've struggled mightily with this. My days too often were ending with me on the brink of a nervous breakdown. As the saying goes, "I've been trying to live my life one day at a time but lately several days have been ganging up on me at once." An idea flitted across my mind one day...about wetlands. Perhaps they could be a source of inspiration for how to handle the flow of information and tasks. After all, isn't that their job, their ecological service?

Just as a wetland can only filter and store a finite amount of water before becoming overwhelmed, our cognitive and emotional capacities have limits. Pushing beyond these limits can overload the system—a state of stress, diminished productivity, and emotional exhaustion.

How much can you absorb: less than you think

The concept of "absorptive capacity", often applied to ecological systems like wetlands, offers a handy metaphor for understanding the human mind and emotions, especially in the context of a demanding workday. We would be wise to recall this gem from Peter Drucker: "All one can do in a short amount of time is to think what you have always thought and do what you've always done."

Let's understand the growing challenge we face. It takes time to think differently. Thinking differently, in the modern workplace, is what makes all the difference--and yet it is nearly unattainable. Knowledge work, unlike manual work in the physical world, is unrestrained by time, space and physical laws. You know that feeling at the end of the day when time just runs out and you have to close up shop and go home? It can feel like you've done something wrong: you weren't productive or efficient or focused enough. But running out of time is inevitable--especially for knowledge workers.

Think about it. Running out of information--and therefore possibilities and tasks--is impossible, while running out of time is guaranteed. Time remains the same even though information expands. And this dilemma will only get more challenging. If the denominator (information) is ever expanding and the numerator (time) is fixed, then the proportion of available information you can possibly consume or understand approaches zero.

This means...

...the ability to curate and synthesize becomes more critical than the ability to simply acquire more information.

...meanwhile the feeling of being uninformed will paradoxically increase, even as you learn more.

...thus making a decision based on "all the facts" becomes impossible, forcing a reliance on heuristics, trusted sources, and pattern recognition.

We are short on time and long on information. We are short on absorptive capacity and long on incoming material to absorb. A quiet mind with lots of time can accomplish great things but a busy mind facing what a colleague calls a "confetti of work" only has the capacity to eek out an existence instead of creating substance.

This is an important starting point: you can absorb less than you think. If you try to absorb more than you think (read: more than you can process), you overwhelm the system, flood the banks, and enter survival mode.

Wetlands are natural engineers of balance

The red wing blackbird with its distinct raspy call is the soundtrack of wetlands to me. I can see her perched on a cat tail, swaying under her weight. The song is about balance.

Wetlands demonstrate that healthy systems are not just about constant intake but about absorption, retention, and gradual release. They effectively manage fluctuating water levels by slowing flow, allowing sediments to settle, and providing time for biological processes to occur thus building resilience. We can learn to construct our workdays in their image preventing mental and emotional inundation, inspiring fresh thinking and organizational renewal.

Buffering

Consider the "buffering" capacity of a wetland. Small, consistent inputs are handled gracefully. In our work lives, this translates to proper planning and breaking down large tasks into manageable segments. Jim Rohn has this great line: "Don't start your day until it's finished." We all nod when we hear about such foresight but exercising the self-discipline to actually do it is another matter. But consider the clear water in a healthy wetland. That can be your life!

Instead of waiting for a deluge of deadlines, we can schedule focused blocks for deep work, allowing our minds to fully absorb and process one task before moving to the next. This prevents the "rush" of information that often accompanies multitasking, which, like a sudden downpour on dry ground, can lead to runoff rather than true absorption. You'll need to disappoint people, frustrate your own ambitions, and wrestle with the fear of not being liked (it's mostly in your head, really). But remember the clear water! It's so beautiful. Remember the red wing's song. It's worth it.

Settling

Wetlands incorporate periods of "settling." After a significant influx, they don't immediately take on more. We require deliberate pauses and breaks throughout our day. Short walks, mindful breathing exercises, playing with kids, chatting with colleagues, or even simply stepping away from the screen for a few minutes can act as mini-settling ponds, allowing information to consolidate and emotional pressures to dissipate. These aren't interruptions to productivity but a safeguarding of the very source of productivity.

I tell the leaders that work with that they must take this kind of time--and to not do so is to not be doing their job. As a leader, you need time to think. That is your job. You cannot just be constantly doing. Thinking is your job and thinking takes time. Most will agree but few will admit this difficult truth: thinking is hard and doesn't feel good. Doing is, by comparison, easy and you get a rush of adrenaline and dopamine (even if nothing is actually accomplished).

These aren't interruptions to productivity but a safeguarding of the very source of productivity.

Many leaders resist thinking time because it is hard and not because they cannot find the time. They don't want to find the time, because they don't want to think. Easier to have a full calendar that you hold up as a symbol of importance and shield against accountability. Settling is a nice metaphor but humans resist it since they appear to prefer excitement over peace.

Resilience

Wetlands exhibit an inherent "resilience" through their ability to absorb change. When one area becomes saturated, others can still function. For us, this suggests the importance of diversifying our mental and emotional inputs and outputs. Engaging in different types of tasks, collaborating with colleagues, standing, sitting, changing rooms, and shifting focus can prevent any single area of our mind from becoming overtaxed. It also highlights the importance of leaving some "capacity in reserve" for unexpected challenges or creative insights, much like a wetland retains some capacity for an unusually heavy rain.

Epilogue-ish: a day on

Michael Hyatt speaks of three ways of spending time: front stage, back stage and off stage. That's a lovely way of putting it. Front stage work pours out, back stage pours in, and off stage allows settling and rejuvenation of the whole system.

I took some off-stage time recently. I was overloaded with personal and work urgencies and demands of many kinds. My whole system felt frazzled and on edge. The check engine light on the dashboard of life was blinking at me.

I marked the day "off" but in many ways I was more "on" than I had been in weeks. The system settled. There was space around my thoughts and feelings. I could see things instead of just being inside them. I looked up from where I was sitting on this day and there was a constructed wetland in front of me. A raspy call was among many playful bird songs I could hear. The abundance of life here, I thought, is made possible by a system that absorbs what it can and transmutes it into all this explosion of life.

If "All one can do in a short amount of time is to think what you have always thought and do what you've always done." Then all one can do in an abundance of time is to think what you've never thought before, and do what you've never done. Wetlands can show us the way.