I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s Resolutions. I wrote a piece here a few years back, suggesting that such resolutions should be made as necessary, regardless of time of year; and they should be done for you, the individual doing them, not because of what others or custom expect of you. It’s not that I’m anti-change; rather, when your heart isn’t fully into the resolution, it’s less likely that you’ll keep it, which could then foil future attempts at making said change. But, if you are the type that feels it necessary to have some sort of goal for the new year, allow me to make a recommendation.

Every January, I need to get a new diary/scheduler/date book, or whatever you want to call it, because my last one is, of course, finished. Every time I open a new one, I see it as a new opportunity — an opportunity to optimise my organisation. Now, I’m aware that many people view organisation in an almost fetish-like manner. I’m not one of those types of people, but I recognise that good organisation is key to getting the things you want to do done in a timely, productive, and efficient manner.

I started using a date book during my PhD as a kind of evolving to-do-list, at the request of my supervisor. I was sceptical at first, thinking it may be a futile exercise — wasting time making lists when I could actually be getting work done. Boy, was I wrong. When I finally relented and started the practice, I noticed a massive difference. No longer did I struggle with figuring out which tasks needed to be done when, remembering to do them, and knowing how to priortise them. Every time something came to mind, I’d write it into my date book. As each new entry was added, I amended the order in which tasks needed to be done. When I crossed items off the list, there was a sense of achievement. I had never felt that before because I had always moved on to the next thing, worrying that I might be forgetting something. On days when I might have eight things to do, but was only able to complete half, instead of feeling like a failure or having anxiety about how much I still had to do, seeing what I had been able to achieve on the list made me feel good. For me, the to-do list was a visual representation of progress; and it removed the burden of organising a day or even days’ work in my head. That’s a cognitive load that I don’t need (nor does anyone else for that matter).

Today, I have seven items on my list. Writing this piece is number five. It’s also probably the last bit of work I’ll do today. That’s fine. I’m happy with that. I got a solid five things done. I can see the progress I made. If it wasn’t for my list, during my free time this evening, I’d be stressing out thinking about items six and seven. They can wait for tomorrow — I know they can because that’s how I organised my list. The items with deadlines got done first — they’re out of the way now. I’ve afforded myself this mental health luxury simply by adding to the list as necessary and taking a minute or two to evaluate before closing up shop for the night.

I recall the early days of developing my "datebook to-do-list" and setting goals for myself throughout the week – "If I can knock off ‘x’ amount of tasks per day, I’ll be doing alright." No longer was I thinking about all the other things that needed doing. "We can worry about that tomorrow. I’ve done enough today." Indeed, the date book allows you to organise many tasks that can be strategically arranged across the week, month or even year. Not everything has to get done now. Of course, you know this — you know what a date book is and what it does; however, it can be helpful to be reminded of what it facilitates.

Not only does organisation facilitate my workflow and ease both my cognitive load and stress, it’s also good for my thinking. Indeed, having a disposition towards organisation is an important dispositional aspect of critical thinking. In this context, a disposition towards organisation refers to an inclination to be orderly, systematic and diligent with information, resources and time when working on a task or addressing a problem, with awareness of the broader context supporting the maintenance of organised activity (Dwyer et al., 2016; Dwyer, 2017). When I’m organised, my thinking is more organised and, thus, so too is my work and what I produce. When I’m organised, I find it easier to fend off "noisy information" and focus on what needs doing without unnecessary stress and/or anxiety regarding other tasks affecting my progress.

Of course, there are many things that can be organised with similar benefit. For example, maybe start with your workspace — declutter and organise what you have. Not being able to find a specific document, because of a lack of organisation, might be something that is stressing you out right now or keeping you from finalising a task.

Organise what you need to accomplish in that workspace by developing and maintaining a daily to-do-list. Once you know what needs doing, all you need to do is to do it. I was once so concerned about the time I’d lose writing these lists, I never thought about how much time it would actually save me by not having to constantly think about what needs doing. My memory is good, but it’s not that good — and couple that with what seems to be ever-increasing amounts of tasks to be accomplished, I can’t fathom not having a to-do-list. How do project managers cope? How do people put together their wedding? They organise, they make lists, they have a plan.

Moreover, if you’re a procrastinator, then I highly recommend organising an evolving datebook to-do-list, especially if your procrastination is linked with anxious feelings. When you’re anxious, it’s natural (and common) to avoid what you need to do. But, when you have things organised, it’s easier for you to stop thinking about doing it (and likely, to some extent, catastrophizing) and just sit down and do it. So, if you’re going to make one change to your life this year, make it one around developing better organisation in your life, be it in your thinking, your work or even your workspace.