Man, what a mess this week was. I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m running around with my head cut off. You know I’ve always preached practical steps, spreadsheets, Gantt charts, all that organized chaos stuff. But lately? Forget it. My brain was just scrambled eggs. I had three major decisions staring me down, all needing an answer by Friday, and every time I tried to sit down and analyze them, I just ended up staring at the ceiling, trying to remember if I had remembered to buy milk.
I was really stressed. I’m talking about the kind of stress where you start questioning every tiny choice you ever made. One decision was huge: whether I should finally invest a massive chunk of change into that expensive new video editing rig for the studio. The second was a gnarly disagreement with a client about payment terms—the guy was dragging his feet, trying to rework a contract we already signed months ago. And the third, the big one that was eating me alive, was deciding if I needed to hire a part-time assistant immediately or just try to power through the workload solo until the end of the year. Heavy stuff, right?
The Unexpected Pivot: Why Astrology Entered My World
I usually avoid all that crystal ball stuff. I’m a data guy. If you can’t measure it, it ain’t real. But Tuesday morning, I was sitting there, nursing my fourth cup of coffee, completely stalled out. My wife, who is totally into that stuff, she just walks over, doesn’t say a word, and shoves her phone under my nose. It was the weekly Virgo forecast from Bejan Daruwalla. She knows I’m a Virgo, annoyingly analytical and always overthinking. I rolled my eyes, honestly, but she knows me well. She knew I needed a break from the hard logic and maybe just a hint of novelty. The title was something punchy, something that demanded attention: “Don’t Make Any Decisions Without This!” How could I not click it?
I skimmed the reading first, just to humor her. The main takeaway for the week was weirdly specific but also totally vague. It said: “Focus intensely on communication this week; clarity must precede commitment. Avoid signing anything or initiating high-cost purchases until the planetary shift on Thursday night.”
I almost snorted my coffee, but then I stopped. Look at my list of paralyzing problems: client payment (signing/commitment/communication), new rig (high-cost purchase), hiring an assistant (commitment/clarity). This reading, whether garbage or gold, perfectly mirrored my current decision bottlenecks. I decided right then I would treat the horoscope as a strict project manager’s mandate for the next three days. I would follow the anti-advice: I would avoid commitment and focus on clarity.
The Practice Log: Executing the Anti-Decision Strategy
I immediately scrapped my Tuesday agenda of trying to force a decision on the new rig. Instead of trying to hammer out aggressive terms with the client about the late payment (which I was totally prepared to do, sending a nasty legal email), I decided to focus purely on the “clarity” part of the advice. I logged my actions and time expenditure meticulously:
- Tuesday: Communication Focus. I didn’t send the aggressive email. I drafted three separate, polite scenarios for the client, detailing exactly how the payment schedule would affect the next stages of the project. Critically, I then called the client up instead of emailing. We talked for fifty minutes. I focused entirely on making sure he fully understood the impact of his delay on his own timeline, rather than just reciting the contract violation. I just listened and clarified.
- Wednesday: Avoid High-Cost Purchases. The gear decision was still hanging over me. The advice said “avoid high-cost purchases.” I was ready to pull the trigger on that fancy $8k editing station. But I held back. Instead, I spent the entire afternoon methodically reviewing old invoices and utility bills, trying to find exactly where our budget was bleeding. I cataloged all the truly necessary studio upgrades versus the “nice-to-haves” that were just exciting new toys. This wasn’t solving the problem, but it was prepping the data. I was gathering intel.
- Thursday (Pre-Shift Deadline): Clarity Before Commitment. This was about the assistant. I felt the immense internal pressure to just post a generic ad. But the advice stuck: “clarity must precede commitment.” So, I didn’t post the job listing. Instead, I mapped out every single task I currently handle that could be delegated. I calculated the exact number of hours wasted weekly on administrative nonsense. I refined the job description until it was bulletproof, listing only tasks I truly needed off my plate.
Thursday night came. The supposed “planetary shift” happened, whatever that meant in the cosmic sense. I was still stressed, but the actual problems felt significantly smaller because I had broken them down and prepared my defense instead of just reacting wildly. I hadn’t made a single major commitment, but I had executed three serious clarity strategies.
The Payoff: What I Learned By Doing Nothing
Friday hit, and suddenly everything clicked into place because of the groundwork I had laid down. That morning, I received an email from the client, apologizing for the miscommunication and the delay. They initiated the full payment, exactly as per the original contract. Problem number one solved, purely because I forced myself to communicate clearly and patiently instead of reacting aggressively.
The gear? Since I had spent time analyzing the finances, I realized I could get 90% of the required functionality with a refurbished, slightly older model, saving almost five thousand dollars. Decision made, budget saved. And the assistant? With the hyper-clear job description I had developed, I posted the listing right after lunch and had five serious, high-quality applicants by the time I logged off. Clarity led directly to effective commitment.
Look, I’m not saying the stars moved for me. I’m not suddenly buying a subscription to an astrology magazine. But what this Bejan Daruwalla reading did was impose a mandatory delay on my impulsive, panicked decision-making. By telling me, “Don’t make a decision until X date,” I was freed up to just focus on gathering critical information and refining my approach. I took what was essentially useless cosmic fluff and turned it into a three-day, non-negotiable project planning phase. And honestly? I probably saved my relationship with that client and several grand by simply waiting three days and focusing on the messy details first. Sometimes, the most non-technical, random advice ends up being the best project management tool you never knew you needed. I might just check that horoscope again next week. Don’t tell my wife I said that, though.
