Reader ,

This article is for you if:

• You wake at 3 a.m. with that gnawing feeling. Something's undone. You can't name it.
• Your email has become your task manager. Threads multiply. Clarity disappears.
• You've built systems that work beautifully. Until external pressures disrupt your rhythm.

The Thing About Ambient Angst

David Allen coined a phrase in Getting Things Done that perfectly captures a feeling most leaders know too well. He calls it "ambient angst."

Here's how Allen describes it:

"It's that vague sense of unease that pervades your consciousness when you have too many undecided things in your psyche. There's a sense that there's something you need to do or something you've left undone, what I call an 'open loop,' but you're not exactly sure what those things are. Because there's a lack of clarity about what exactly needs to happen, there's this underlying anxiety. And it's ambient because it's just kind of there, all around you—when you're trying to go to bed, when you have a quiet moment and your brain slows down, when the immediate work pressure lifts. It's the psychological tax of mental clutter, the accumulated weight of decisions not made and actions not defined."

That's the way I used to live my life.

A Vulnerable Confession

But early last week surprised me. That vague sense of unease started showing up again. The open loops Allen describes began multiplying in my mind. Things I couldn't quite name kept nagging at me when I tried to focus. That familiar background hum of anxiety returned.

After decades of building systems, rhythms, and structures specifically designed to eliminate this exact problem, I found myself on Monday morning recognizing that ambient angst had escalated into something more acute: I was on the edge of overwhelm.

That's a humbling admission for a coach whose entire methodology centers on helping leaders live and lead from overflow instead of overwhelm. What kind of coach gets overwhelmed?

Apparently, this one.

The Genius of the AND

We realized something important on Monday morning. The likelihood of external vendors plugging into our systems was essentially zero; it would be unreasonable to expect them to work in our methodology.

And yet.

We also needed a way to track not only what we were doing, but what everyone else was supposed to be doing. We couldn't just let confusion reign because "the client would never use our system."

Notice the tension here. This is what Jim Collins calls in Built to Last "The Genius of the AND." You need both respect for external partners' workflows AND internal clarity for your team. Not either-or. Both-and.

But on Monday, we didn't yet know how to achieve that. So the ambient angst continued.

The Room-by-Room Strategy

Later that week, I met with my coach Carla. She's been coaching me long enough to recognize when something's atypical. Through a series of great questions, she led me to a powerful metaphor.

What if I thought about these four discrete projects like rooms in a house?

What if I spent time room by room, cleaning up the clutter in each space? Then I'd at least have clarity on one room before moving to the next. She was teaching me triage: which rooms needed cleaning first, which could be delayed, which were urgent by week's end.

I also realized something else. When I'm overwhelmed, my physical office space becomes cluttered. Papers pile up; mail goes unanswered. Things sit on my desk meaning to be dealt with but not yet properly addressed.

Physical clutter mirrors mental clutter.

So I spent thirty minutes straightening and cleaning. It felt great to work in a clean space. But the projects? Still there. Still unclear.

When AI Adds to the Confusion

Thursday brought a major strategic planning event I was leading. We’d built most of the framework in Claude, the AI tool we use for such work. But the client’s circumstances had changed; we needed to significantly revise our deliverables and agenda.

Should have taken one hour. Simple adjustments; human double-check; resubmit to client; move forward.

Instead, AI was misbehaving. Things that should have gone simply got stuck. Five hours later, I finally had the clarity I’d hoped would take thirty minutes.

I ended Thursday encouraged by Carla’s coaching and the room-by-room strategy. But frustrated and behind. The client meeting was Friday morning.

How was I going to clean up this first room with so little time?

Continue reading this article here​