I have tried a lot of organizational systems over the years.
And when I say a lot, I mean enough that I could probably open a small museum dedicated entirely to the different ways I’ve attempted to get my life together.
Bullet journals. Notebooks. Planners. Sticky notes covering my desk and computer. A reminders app that currently has so many things in it that I’m fairly certain some of those reminders have been waiting for attention since a previous version of me existed.
Every single one of these systems started with good intentions.
I would find a new method, get excited about how organized I was about to become, spend a completely reasonable (read: unreasonable) amount of time setting everything up, and think, This is it. This is the one that’s finally going to work.
And sometimes it did. For a while. Until I stopped updating it, forgot where I wrote something down, or realized that the system I’d created to make my life easier now required its own maintenance schedule.
Which brings me to something I’ve been thinking about lately: there’s a pretty big difference between creating a system and creating a system that actually works for you.
And unfortunately, the first one is usually a lot more fun.
The Setup Phase Is a Dangerous Place
I love the idea of being organized.
Give me a new notebook, some colorful pens, and a completely unrealistic expectation of who I’m about to become, and I am unstoppable.
The bullet journal era was particularly ambitious.
There were layouts. Categories. Trackers. Carefully planned pages. An entire system designed to help me keep track of everything I needed to do.
It was beautiful. It was also a lot of work.
Because now, in addition to remembering everything I needed to do, I had to remember to write it in the journal, update the trackers, move unfinished tasks forward, and maintain the organizational masterpiece I’d created.
Apparently, I had given myself homework for the privilege of remembering my other homework. Excellent system. No notes.
Except, actually, several notes.
Because the problem wasn’t that I couldn’t create something organized. I was very good at that part. The problem was that the system required a level of consistency and maintenance that didn’t always match how my brain worked. And once I fell behind, getting back into it felt like another task I didn’t have the energy to start.
Having a System Doesn’t Mean It’s Helping
This is something I think gets overlooked in conversations about productivity.
We tend to assume that if someone struggles with organization, the solution is to give them a system.
A planner. A calendar. A checklist. An app. A notebook. Some beautifully color-coded combination of all five.
And sometimes those things genuinely help. But the existence of a system doesn’t automatically mean that it’s useful.
A planner only helps if you remember to check it. A reminder only helps if you actually notice it and know what to do with it. A task list only helps if you can find what matters among everything else you’ve added. A notebook only helps if you remember which notebook contains the information you’re looking for.
And sticky notes?
Sticky notes are wonderful until your desk starts looking like the conspiracy board from a detective movie.
At that point, the sticky notes are no longer reminding me of individual things. They’ve formed a community, and I am no longer their leader – the sticky note that was written the longest ago that has one thing on it that never got done is.
The point is that a tool can be perfectly functional and still not function well for the person using it.
That’s not necessarily a failure of the person or the tool. Sometimes it’s simply a mismatch.
The Hidden Executive Function Work of Staying Organized
Here’s where this becomes more than a funny story about my questionable relationship with stationery: organizational systems are supposed to support executive function, but using those systems can require executive function too.
Think about what goes into maintaining a planner.
You have to remember to open it, capture new information, decide where things belong, prioritize tasks, update deadlines, review what you’ve written, and move unfinished items forward.
That’s planning, working memory, prioritization, task initiation, and cognitive flexibility all showing up to the same meeting.
And for someone who already finds some of those processes challenging, the system itself can become another source of cognitive load.
This doesn’t mean planners are bad or that neurodivergent people can’t use them successfully – plenty of people do. It means we need to pay attention to how much effort the tool requires compared with how much effort it saves.
Because if I’m spending more time organizing my tasks than actually completing them, I may have accidentally created a second job.
And the benefits package is terrible.
My Reminders App Has Become a Historical Archive
I would like to formally apologize to my reminders app. It tried. It really did. But somewhere along the way, I started using it as a place to put absolutely everything I didn’t want to forget.
Which sounds like exactly what a reminders app is supposed to do.
The problem is that I kept adding things. And adding things. And adding things.
Some were important. Some were time-sensitive. Some were vague ideas that seemed urgent for approximately eleven minutes. Others were things I needed to do eventually, which, as we’ve already established, is not an actual date.
Eventually, the list became so full that opening it felt overwhelming.
And when everything is demanding attention, it’s surprisingly difficult to figure out what actually deserves attention.
This is where a tool can start working against its original purpose. The app was supposed to reduce the amount of information I needed to keep in my head. Instead, I had created a digital version of the pile of papers on my desk.
Technically, everything was there. Finding what mattered was another conversation entirely.
Sometimes We Blame Ourselves When the System Stops Working
I think this is one of the more frustrating parts.
When a system stops working, it’s easy to assume we just weren’t disciplined enough.
I should have kept up with the planner. I should have checked the reminders. I should have maintained the bullet journal. I should have been more consistent.
And sure, consistency matters.
But I think there’s a difference between building habits and forcing yourself to maintain a system that creates more friction than it removes.
If I repeatedly stop using something, that’s worth paying attention to. Not because it proves I’m incapable of being organized, but because it tells me something about the relationship between the tool and how I actually operate.
Maybe there are too many steps. Maybe it requires too much manual updating. Maybe the information isn’t easy to find. Maybe the notifications have become background noise. Maybe the system works beautifully on a low-stress Tuesday but completely falls apart when life gets busy.
And if a system only works when everything else in my life is going perfectly, I have some unfortunate news about how often that’s going to happen.
A Good System Has to Survive Real Life
This is probably the biggest lesson I’ve learned from all my organizational experiments.
It’s not enough for a system to work when I’m motivated to use it.
It needs to work when I’m busy. When I’m tired. When I have too many things going on. When I forget to update something. When my schedule changes. When I haven’t looked at it in three days and need to figure out where I left off. (I’m currently writing this in a 6-day vacation from my current system…who knows what’ll need to be updated when I open it again?)
Because those are usually the moments when I need support the most.
I don’t want a system that requires me to be the most organized version of myself before I can benefit from it. That seems like a fairly significant design flaw.
I want something that makes it easier to come back after I’ve fallen behind, instead of making me feel like I need to rebuild the entire thing.
And I think that’s an important distinction for anyone trying to find executive-function tools that actually help.
The goal shouldn’t be to become exceptionally good at maintaining an organizational system. The goal should be to make the things you’re trying to organize easier to manage.
More Features Don’t Automatically Mean More Support
I think we sometimes get caught up in what a productivity tool can do.
Does it have calendars? Task lists? Reminders? Templates? Custom categories? Color coding? Integrations?
A dashboard that looks like it belongs in mission control? Very impressive.
But can I actually use it when my brain is already overwhelmed? That’s a different question.
More customization can be wonderful for people who enjoy building detailed systems. But for someone who needs fewer decisions and less maintenance, every additional setting can become another thing to figure out.
There’s also something to be said for having too many separate tools.
One place for appointments. Another for tasks. Another for notes. Another for reminders. And then a fifth place where I write down which of the first four places I put something.
At some point, I don’t need another feature, I need fewer places to look.
The Best System Is the One You Actually Come Back To
I don’t think there’s one perfect organizational system for everyone. Honestly, after all the notebooks I’ve purchased, I’d be a little offended if there were.
Some people genuinely thrive with bullet journals. Others love paper planners. Some need sticky notes where they can physically see them. Some prefer digital tools. Some need a combination.
And what works for you now may not be what works for you six months from now. That’s okay.
But I do think there are a few questions worth asking when you’re deciding whether a system is actually helping.
Does it make information easier to capture? Can I find what I need without searching through five different places? Does it reduce the number of things I have to remember? Can I return to it after missing a few days without feeling like I’ve failed? Does maintaining it require more energy than it’s saving me?
Most importantly, does it make my life easier outside the system itself?
Because a beautifully organized task list isn’t particularly useful if all my energy goes into maintaining the list.
At some point, I’d like to actually do the things on it. (Wild concept, I know.)
This Is Part of What We’re Trying to Build With NeuroLocker
A lot of these experiences have shaped how we think about NeuroLocker.
We’ve lived through the notebooks, planners, reminders, and sticky notes. We know what it’s like to have information scattered across different places and to feel like managing the tools has become just as overwhelming as managing the tasks themselves.
And we don’t want NeuroLocker to become another version of that problem.
The goal is to bring things like tasks, reminders, calendars, and voice capture into a more connected space, so people have fewer places to remember to check.
But having those features together is only part of the solution. The experience has to be manageable too.
It needs to be easy to capture something when you think of it, find it again when you need it, and return to your tasks without feeling like you’ve created another administrative responsibility for yourself.
That’s something we’re continuing to work toward as NeuroLocker grows, because we’re not interested in building another system that looks impressive but requires people to become productivity experts just to use it.
We want to build something that actually supports how people function in real life. Including the messy days. Especially the messy days.
Organization Shouldn’t Become Another Thing on Your To-Do List
I still like a good notebook. I still use reminders. And I will probably continue to have a complicated relationship with sticky notes for the foreseeable future.
But I’ve stopped assuming that a new system is automatically a better system.
Sometimes the answer isn’t another planner, another app, or another elaborate setup. Sometimes it’s simplifying what you already have. Sometimes it’s recognizing that the system you’ve been trying to force yourself to use isn’t a good fit.
And sometimes it’s accepting that a tool doesn’t need to look particularly impressive to be incredibly useful.
If it helps you remember what matters, find what you need, and follow through without creating a whole new collection of responsibilities, that’s a pretty good start.
Because the whole point of having support is that it should actually support you, not become another thing you’re trying to keep up with.
And if maintaining your productivity system has become one of the biggest tasks on your to-do list, maybe the system needs a performance review.
Talk soon,
Sophea
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