When I was in my junior year of high school, my AP Calculus teacher played a video for us the day before winter break. It was a TED Talk by Tim Urban, the popular blogger behind “Wait But Why,” who delved into the mind of a procrastinator: featuring the Instant Gratification Monkey (the one who replaces the Rational Decision Maker in our mind and takes us on quests such as doomscrolling when there’s an impending deadline, eliciting a mix of anxiety and unearned gratification) and the Panic Monster (who eventually takes the wheel from the Instant Gratification Monkey when a deadline comes too close, leading us to pull all-nighters to save ourselves from the consequence of an unfinished task).
Either way, the work gets done because there’s a deadline. The end of the video touched on a question that still floats around in my head even now: What happens when there isn’t a deadline?
I’ve always been one to hold goals and aspirations, a lot of which are personal and unique to me and may not be understood much by others — whether it’s writing a novel or applying my creativity to run a website or online business. Yet, these goals are vague and foggy, lacking sharp detail; more importantly, they lack hard deadlines. I won’t fail a quiz or an exam if I fail to write a blog post within a week, for example. The end of the TED Talk resonated with me: the worst type of anxiety isn’t even from missing a deadline, but from that sadness that creeps up on us one day, upon realizing that our aspirations have been unfulfilled. In other words, we’ve procrastinated on what doesn’t have a deadline. Over my three semesters of Hopkins so far, once in a while, a feeling stirs within me, reminding me that something is missing from my life. Usually, this feeling becomes more prominent during reading week or within those slower weeks with no back-to-back midterms.
Yet, it didn’t seem to make sense because, on paper, I am involved in volunteering, a couple student organizations, research and have hobbies — I am checking off the boxes for what it means to be a well-rounded student, and I’m enjoying what I do while also finding time to take breaks. Recently, I finally realized what the problem was: I was checking off the boxes for what it meant to be a well-rounded student, but didn’t take time to think about whether checking off those boxes was necessary in order to pursue the aspirations stirring within me. And more importantly, I didn’t take the time to think about how I might add more clarity to those aspirations to turn them into tangible action items.
Often, with remaining busy, there’s a guaranteed outcome: putting effort into a defined project will manifest in some type of presentation. When it comes to a personal project, the outcome is very uncertain and we have to solidify that idea ourselves – so, why not bask in the accomplishment of guaranteed outcomes instead? At least these outcomes will appear on a resume and elevate our chances of becoming involved in future opportunities – which is what we’re rewarded for. Maybe busyness is the worst form of procrastination, because it’s deceiving. We relish in the feel-good vibes of being involved, but in the long-term, we’re only stalling on defining and acting on our values. At least with doomscrolling, we’re aware that we’re procrastinating. But with productive procrastination, it’s seldom obvious.
Elite schools are places that push us to achieve as much as possible, and there’s plenty of resources and opportunities to excel. Yet there’s not a lot of emphasis on figuring out what we want our achievement to look like. If we don’t make the most of these resources, it’ll feel as if we aren’t trying our best, and we’ll regret it later on.
At Hopkins, it’s easy to look around and see most people pursuing endeavors that make us gasp and say, “Wow! That sounds so cool!” — whether that’s creating brain-computer interfaces, building race cars, doing fiber arts or serving as a teaching assistant for a class. It’s even easier to get swept up in these extracurriculars and go through the motions of the semester without asking ourselves: Is what I’m doing truly what I want? Of course, there are always set avenues to pursue in preparation for career goals: whether it’s certain classes for pre-medicine or pre-law, or diving into research in order to build skills and deepen your expertise on a certain topic. Defining what we want requires thinking and soul-searching. It’s much harder and more uncomfortable than taking action to stay busy. Yet the consequence is regret — the kind that stems from knowing that our hopes have collected dust.
Sareena Naganand is a sophomore from Piscataway, New Jersey majoring in Biomedical Engineering. Her column, “The Daily Chai,“ is about finding happiness in simple, insignificant moments: the kind that makes us smile, wrapping around us like the warmth that comes from drinking a cup of tea.
