A Field Note on Compartmentalisation (and Booking Flights)

And just like that, it’s almost February.

There is a particular kind of pressure at this time of year. The calendar says the year has begun, but the rhythm of daily life here in New Zealand says otherwise. The school holidays stretch on, a long, languid tail of summer that refuses to be hurried. Though I note it's pissing down with rain today. Again.

I’ll be honest: I haven’t got much "work" done yet. Not in the traditional sense. I’m struggling to find any kind of cadence because the reality of family life is still the dominant frequency.

The Power of a Future Anchor

However, I have managed one significant win. I’ve locked in the logistics for the year ahead. I’ve booked accommodation for two trips to the UK—with strategic stopovers in Beijing and Shanghai to break the journey—and a trip to Japan.

There is a psychological power in this simple administrative act. Locking these dates in has been a surprisingly effective tool for my mindset. It gives me anchors in the calendar, future points of excitement that help keep my mind refreshed and focused, even when the present moment feels a bit scattered. It’s a reminder that there is cool stuff to come.

The Death of Multitasking

This period of limbo has also forced me to confront a hard truth about how I work. I’ve realised that trying to switch tasks multiple times a day—jumping between "dad mode" and "work mode" in hour-long bursts—is a recipe for frustration. It destroys my focus and leaves me feeling like I’m failing at both jobs.

Instead, I’m leaning hard into compartmentalisation.

I am trying to set days purely for work, where I can go deep and get things done. And then, on other days, I am purely with my kids and family. No checking emails, no "just one quick thing." Just being present.

Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe my brain has just lost the elasticity required for constant context switching. But I suspect it’s also just experience. I find my brain handles these big, clear blocks of time infinitely better than the friction of constant switching.

So, if you’re also feeling like you haven’t quite started yet, don’t worry. We’ll get there. For now, maybe the best strategy isn’t to force a rhythm that isn't there, but to embrace the blocks we have.