I think in systems.
As an introverted intuitive, it is my nature to look at the big picture. But because I am extroverted in thinking, I think of steps to follow through my big plans.
For this insight into my cognitive functions, I have Jung and his adherents to thank. (If you have not yet figured out your Myers-Briggs Type, I advocate getting started.)
For a few months now, I have been diligently working on a document I call my Standard Operating Procedure, or SOP. I figured that thinking is systems means you need to name your system, explicitly. The Word document about my personal SOP grew to thousands of words, a thick sheaf of my reflections.
The document itself is private territory. But I would like to share with you today two things. First, why having one is of vital importance, even if you are not a systems thinker. Second, some essential things on my SOP that might help you as they have helped me become more mature, emotionally.
Why having one is of vital importance
One of my prescriptions for clients, especially those who are inclined, is to journal—specifically, to handwrite-journal. I tell them to buy a notebook, even a non-descript plain one (a fancy one is great too, whatever floats your boat). The point is to get started. Writing things down connects one vital part of the brain to another. The parts I am referring to are:
Part 1: the limbic system (amygdala, hippocampus, hypothalamus)
Part 2: the prefrontal cortex (dorsolateral and ventromedial parts with the orbitofrontal cortex).
To elaborate:
Part 1 is where the emotional material is stored. Unnamed, it is messy, mysterious, but full of power—dark, dark power. Your Truth kind of power.
Part 2 is your control center—responsible for executive functioning.
You must harness both—draw from both sources when you write. Handwriting is one of the most potent ways of honoring these two systems. Jordan B. Peterson once lectured about brain hemisphericity; I refer to his analysis here. What he means—and what I also mean—is that engaging both the limbic system and the prefrontal cortex links your brain so that you can access these two sometimes warring, disconnected parts of yourself and negotiate what is best for your whole, indivisible self.
In therapy, especially when working with people who have experienced trauma, emotional hijacking often occurs—the limbic system (Part 1) takes over, and the person is no longer thinking things through. Because the limbic brain does not think, it is an animalistic, mammalian brain. Operating with this system predominant makes us prone to making choices that do not conform to the middle way. The middle way is where we engage both the thinking brain (Part 2) and feeling brain (Part 1) so the choices we make are balanced. No, not “ultimately right” or “too logical” a choice. Not “too emotional” either, or “illogical” a choice either. Nasa gitna. Sakto lang.
Writing things down becomes a practical way of training this integration.
The second reason why having a journal helps is the prevention of information overload and its conniving cousin, decisions paralysis. Some people are born with a higher level of anxiety—I am not talking about the crippling kind. I refer to the daily level of anxiety, the type of energy propels us, human beings, to move. Anyway, if you’re one of us (yes, count me in!), you need to protect yourself. And this is how I do it: I abide by my SOP.
See, when you are a high-anxiety-prone person, your mind tends to over-plan, over-speculate, and overall, overthink. (Pardon the wordplay.) Having an external structure you can refer to can reel in your overactive brain.
For instance, have you ever experienced feeling overwhelmed by so many choices while shopping for a simple jar of pasta sauce? All of a sudden, it becomes about the best bang for your buck, how long the sauce will keep, and oh—will your folks at home even like it? Spiral, zigzag, your mind goes to the moon and back. Meanwhile: earth to self—you’ve been standing in front of the sauce section in the supermarket, looking like a weirdo.
That was decision paralysis illustrated. Things would have been easier if you had a grocery list and stuck to it. This is the analogy: a grocery list functions much like an SOP.
What to include in your SOP
So far, I have explained why creating an SOP can benefit you. If you are still with me, let me now move to what actually goes into one. I will share some of the things I have in my SOP mismo that can help you.
For starters, develop a cohesive personal operating philosophy. Another word for it is a motto. Carl Jung calls this a personal myth—a framework that gives coherence to you, all of you, and how you live your life.
This is a deeply personal process. In my case, I arrived at five verbs that function as governing principles. I will not share them here—they are mine and mine alone—but I can offer examples from others:
Elizabeth I adopted “Semper Eadem,” which is Latin for “Always the Same.” Yuval Noah Harari’s primary battle cry was “Clarity is power.” Meanwhile, Charlotte Brontë is known for saying, “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” All three share one thing in common: the articulation of a stable core identity that guides decision-making across situations.
Your personal motto comes fist first because it establishes your ruling principles. From there, you can develop specific SOPs with steps—specific, actionable steps—for distinct aspects of your life.
So far, I have developed (or am in the process of developing) SOPs for my writing life, my work as a therapist, diet and nutrition, technology use, interpersonal relationships (with sub-SOPs for my children, spouse, and eventually, extended family), socializing, and media consumption (including communications/social media, and soon, entertainment platforms)
One important caveat: your personal SOP, now objectified as a document, must be an evergreen one because it should remain open for revision. Life changes. Pivots are necessary.
Primarily, though, what is written int the SOP should be followed. Or else, what is the point of creating it at all? Going back to the grocery list analogy: yes, we occasionally add or adjust items, but we largely stick to the list. Doing so preserves its power.
In the past, my systems failed because I was being too autocratic. I intend to correct that by applying a more flexible principle: what is often called the 80% rule. Once I have about 80% clarity, I make the decision. If this works for the Marines, it should work for me. A 20% wiggle room is acceptable. You know, pag nasa grocery ka, may nadadagdag talaga sa cart. Don’t be too rigid, or you’re not going to enjoy your life, and that’s no fun.
To conclude: I have shared my why, and I have outlined some elements of the how, based on my own practice.
So, start from the top. Find your motto, your irrevocable tenets. Then follow through—make your SOPs and write them all down. (You can make the first draft on your computer, and then upload it to Google Docs if you like.) The document(s) will not eliminate uncertainty, but it can be the antidote to the chaos life inevitably brings. And if you’re a chronic overthinker like me, that’s like taking vitamins before you end up with maintenance meds.
If the SOP document were to have a subtitle, it would be:
“How to run your life, [insert your name here]”.
Because at some point, you must decide you will.
I hope this helps.
