From Chaos to Compound Growth

Why structure used to scare me — and what changed

I used to think structure and plans were cages.

Plans felt like something anxious people needed. Something people used to fend off uncertainty and chaos, or to feel in control. I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay open, flexible, spontaneous, and adaptable. I believe interesting things happen to people who keep an open mind.

For most of my life, I thought that was enough. Until I realized I was also unmoored, floating, not making progress at anything, not finishing what I set out to do.

Why I Resisted Structure

Strict routines reminded me of rigidity. Of childhood patterns that felt more about control and following tradition than real wisdom.

I liked having options. I liked being able to change my mind. There was a kind of pride in improvising everything — travel, work, fitness, even creative projects. I thought it made me more alive, more in the pulse of the moment.

But under the surface, I kept running into the same cycle: I'd dive in with energy, go hard for a few weeks, and then hit a wall. Progress in climbing stalled. My Duolingo app sent me daily reminders that I ignored. Reading and writing happened in bursts.

What Shifted

When I adopted Moon, something changed. He didn’t do much — just followed the same rhythm each day: stretch, eat, sunbathe, nap, poop. But his daily rhythm inspired me. Moon is a being that is completely at the whims of his biology, yet he is perfect.

I noticed I’d started to mirror him. I went to sleep around the same time each night. Built a morning routine. Went to the gym regularly. Did a little stretching before bed. He noticed my rhythm, too, and seemed happier. Our rhythms fed off each other.

There wasn’t a moment when I said, “Now I’ll become a structured person.” It was more like I stopped resisting biology. And then something surprising happened — I started to feel less scattered.

The Slow Build

I didn’t overhaul my life. I just let a few things repeat, like journaling every day. I started going to the climbing gym on the same 2-3 days each week. I tracked which problems I tried and how they felt, and what I'll do next. I logged my nutrition and sleep. Nothing dramatic — but it all added up.

In a few months, I started climbing harder. Not from pushing harder, but from being consistent and not being "intense". For example, instead of saying I won't climb if I don't have a full 2-hour window, I went even if it's just for 30 minutes.

Same thing with Duolingo, reading, and writing. I just did a little of everything every day. A lesson here, a paragraph there. It didn’t feel like a breakthrough at the time, but eventually, I looked up and realized I had made a ton of progress. It's like seeing compound interest happen, but on me.

What I’ve Noticed

I still resist the idea of “discipline.” I still don’t color-code my calendar. But the more I practice rhythm, the less I crave intensity.

Structure, for me, isn’t about control. It’s about direction. A quiet sense that I’m building something — slowly, deliberately, without burning out.

And when I do want to go off-script? I can and do crave that from time to time. But now, there’s a foundation to return to.

Written with help from ChatGPT