The Planned Freedom Paradox

Remixing Constraints for a More Fulfilling Life

We often believe that freedom from constraints is the key to pursuing our desires. That is nonsense.

There is a story about two idiots who meet in the desert. One struggles with a phone booth, the other with a giant rock. The idiot with the rock asks, "Why are you carrying a phone booth around?" The idiot with the booth replies, "For the lion. When it appears, I'll be safe inside. What about you and that rock?" "Oh, it's for the lion too," says the other. "When it comes, I'll drop the rock and you'll see how fast I can run!"

I spent years feeling like the idiot with the rock, convinced that shedding the rock of current obligations—the job, the responsibilities—would finally set me free and unleash unheard of power.

I tried it. Multiple times. But I realized that without a "lion," there's no real incentive to run. And without a clear direction, you end up stranded in the desert, feeling foolish next to your discarded rock.

It's tempting to rebel against constraints, just because.

I used to define freedom as the ability to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whomever I want. It sounds appealing, but it's not only not practical, it is simply not true.

During my second quarter-life crisis, I took a 10-month leave from medicine. It was another attempt to ditch the "rock of medicine" and see how far I could run with my other desires that I have been wrestling with on the side. But it lacked forethought.

I envisioned an epic, movie-like road trip in California. I landed in San Francisco, expecting instant connections and incredible adventures.

The reality check was harsh. No one offered me a place to stay. Couchsurfing was a bust. I ended up in a rundown dorm in a sketchy part of town. Trying to connect with people over dinner was a failure. The city was far more expensive than I'd anticipated. I spent most of my time worrying about where to sleep and how to eat on a budget. The rest of the time, I wandered aimlessly, searching for the magical part of the city. I hated it.

I vented to a friend on Skype. He spontaneously flew out, and we planned a road trip with clear constraints:

• Accommodation: Find unique AirBnBs.

• Transportation: Rent a Blue Mustang convertible.

• Experiences: Identify some must-sees and must-dos.

With this framework in place, I could relax and fully immerse myself in the experience. We could go with the flow, ditch things were necessary.

It became just that epic, movie-like adventure I had originally imagined, complete with crazy people, serendipitous encounters, and maybe a few illegal activities.

That's when I realized I thrive on planned freedom. Basic needs covered, a fixed frame makes me more productive and efficient in almost every area of life.

This is essentially what habits and routines are: planned goalposts that enable your freedom.

As Stephen King said, he sits at his writing desk every morning at 8 o'clock so that the muse knows where to find him.

Where attention goes, energy flows. No attention, no energy. No plan, no support.

This is the planned freedom paradox: You have to restrict your freedom to create a space where you can truly experience it.

I now define freedom as the ability to choose.

The possibility to choose your own constraints.

This is more restrictive and more meaningful. You choose between options, as I described here "Either/And Revolution".

The key is that choosing requires a defined set of options—planned freedom.

This is the exact same principle of time blocking or time boxing. You block out a defined amount of time in your calendar as the constraint. Within that frame you then have the freedom for your deep, focused and or creative work.

The fewer options, the easier the choice, conserving mental energy.

One of my most memorable culinary experiences with that was at a Sardinian restaurant in Rome called "Quattro Mori." Upon entering, you were presented with only two choices: Fish or meat, red or white wine. That's it. No menu. You sat down and enjoyed a mind-blowing seven-course meal with matching wine. You could relax, enjoy your conversation, and not worry about anything. This was planned freedom.

I was so fascinated by this concept in our age of information and choice overload that I seriously considered opening a restaurant based on this principle.

Knowing yourself is key. If you tend to be scattered, you benefit from frames and restraints. If you're prone to being already OCD, you might benefit from removing details from your plans, leaving more space to experience freedom.

In our thrive for freedom we most often rebel against external restraints. We forget that the goal is not "no restraints" but "your restraints".

I was my most productive under the intense time constraints in a university hospital. Like a McGyver with a shoe string. I wrote many research papers during little holes in my schedule sitting on the top staircase in a remote hospital wing to not be disturbed.

We forget that freedom is not equal to fun. That you can turn external restraints into your restraints with a simple shift of your mindset. And go from passive to active. That is the key from the eternal insight:

"If you want what you get, you always get what you want".

So, what can you do with this?

Look at areas of your life where you crave more freedom and assess whether you have too many options or too few.

Consider the bare necessities—the frame—that this area needs.

Define the frame and narrow your options.

Then choose one, some, or all of your options and let go.

Sit back and experience your new planned freedom.

To more in life

Nicco

Listen to the song for this post: