What comes next is what I will called The Weld. It is a way of combining two vastly different extremes of myself to form a more coherent and true version of myself. Before I would overthink. I would sit and think about anything I was thinking of doing before actually doing it. I would play out the entire course of action and use predictive analytics to see where it would lead me to and what it would mean for me. Many times I wouldn’t do anything, I’d find some reasoning in my brain to not go and do it. That led to me having a breaking point when I began to sit and see that I hadn’t moved an inch since I started. So I overcorrected and started to act before thinking. Which naturally over time evolved into acting without thinking. Though over enough time I once again began to lose myself. I strayed too far right. Days and weeks passed me by and I wouldn’t be there. I’d just be a mindless robot doing what I was told to do. Shutting off when it was all done again. Waking up and starting that process all over again. The new transformation will combine the two versions of myself and take the best of both. Weld them together and form a new way of operating in the world. I don’t yet know how it will look, but I do know that it’s the way forward.
A way of combining two vastly different extremes of myself to form a more coherent and true version of myself. Before, I would overthink. I would sit and dissect every thought, examining it from every angle, projecting possible outcomes, and using predictive analytics to foresee what it might mean for me. But the overthinking became a prison. Many times, I wouldn’t take a single step forward. I would convince myself of the risks, the futility, or the imagined obstacles. That paralysis led to a breaking point—a moment when I looked around and saw that despite all my internal efforts, I hadn’t moved an inch.
In response, I overcorrected. I began to act before thinking, throwing myself into motion just to escape the inertia that had bound me for so long. At first, it felt freeing—a release from the constant back-and-forth of analysis. But over time, I swung too far in the other direction. I began to act without thinking. Days blurred into weeks, and I became a machine, mindlessly completing tasks without pause for reflection. The same routines that once gave me structure became shackles of another kind. I realized I was drifting again, not rooted in my actions or their purpose.
Now, I find myself at the precipice of a new transformation. The Weld. This transformation is not a rejection of either extreme but a deliberate fusing of their strengths. From my overthinking self, I will take the power of foresight, strategy, and calculated risk. From my action-driven self, I will take the boldness to move forward without fear and the momentum that only comes from doing. Together, these aspects will form a new way of operating in the world—a way that allows for reflection without stagnation, for action with intention.
This transformation will require a steady hand. Just as a welder must balance heat and precision to create a perfect bond, I will need to temper my impulses and guide my thoughts. It is not enough to simply act or think; I must align my actions with my reflections in real time. I must learn to trust my instincts without abandoning my mind.
There will be moments of doubt. I know this. The overthinking part of me will question every step, and the action-driven part will demand speed at the expense of clarity. But those moments will be the test—the fire that forges the weld. In those moments, I must stand firm and remind myself why this matters.
I don’t yet know how this new way will look in practice. There’s no blueprint for combining two extremes into something entirely new. But that’s part of the process. Each day will be an experiment, each decision an opportunity to refine this balance. I expect there will be failures along the way. Welds often require reworking before they’re strong enough to hold. But I’m ready for that. I’ll keep refining until I find the rhythm that fits.
This is the way forward. Not as the overthinker chained to inaction. Not as the automaton lost in unthinking motion. But as something new. Something whole. Someone capable of holding the tension between thought and action, between planning and doing, between who I was and who I am becoming.
Because at the end of the day, this is not about choosing one part of myself over the other. It’s about choosing all of me. And letting that whole, imperfect, contradictory self finally take the lead.
