Why Doing Less Delivers More

We are wired to be busy. As ambitious professionals, we love crossing things off our to-do lists. It makes us feel indispensable.

But recently, during a leadership discussion, I heard a piece of data that completely shifted my perspective on what it means to be productive.

In business, organizations run thousands of experiments - anywhere from 1,000 to 2,000 of them. Yet, at the end of the day, only a tiny handful of those ideas, perhaps two to five, will actually deliver 95% of the total value.

Read that again: 95% of the value comes from a fraction of the effort.

The Overachiever’s Curse

If you are a driven professional, this is a bitter pill to swallow. We love to do everything. We look around and see a phenomenal opportunity under almost every stone we turn.

Whether it’s leveraging AI as a new multiplier or chasing the latest consumer wellness trends, the possibilities are endless. Because we are overachievers and game-changers, our instinct is to tackle them all.

But treating every viable opportunity as a top priority is a trap.

The Art of Disengaging

The most difficult part of leadership isn't finding good opportunities. It is having the discipline to be extremely choiceful.

If a project or a topic doesn't belong in the absolute top five things that need to get done, you have to do something highly uncomfortable: you must consciously disengage. You have to ruthlessly eliminate the noise, eliminating as many things as possible that are not at the very top of the list.

This goes completely against our nature. It requires you to look at a perfectly viable opportunity and deliberately walk away from it.

Any stone can be turned into a phenomenal opportunity. But only a few things will truly create value for the company.

The Rule of Five

This kind of intense focus has to start at the leadership level. If leaders are clear from the top about the critical few priorities, it becomes much easier for everyone else in the organization to align their efforts.

So, take a hard look at your work plan for the year.

Does it clearly outline those two to five things that will actually move the needle? Or are you trying to turn every single stone?

Having the discipline to focus only on what matters is the ultimate game-changer. It is time to stop trying to do everything, and start doing what counts.

Reclaiming Your Mind: Escaping Burnout in the Age of AI

It’s Sunday afternoon. I’m stretched out on the couch, laptop resting on my knees. Honestly, if you can find a moment of absolute, unapologetic stillness in today's chaotic world, you’ve already won.

We are on the 11th day of Ramadan. I won't lie—that first day kicked my ass during a late-afternoon meeting. But the human body is a ridiculously adaptable machine. Nowadays, my alarm goes off at 3 AM for suhoor. It has evolved into this bizarre, hyper-focused productivity ritual. While the rest of the world is dead to the world, I’m eating, going down random YouTube rabbit holes to wake my brain up, and ruthlessly purging my inbox. There is a profound, untouchable clarity in the silence of the early hours.

Speaking of productivity, I’ve been having a heavy, fast-paced affair with AI lately—specifically Co-Pilot’s Researcher agent. It’s my new playground. Whenever there's a complex topic I need to deep-dive into, I throw a prompt at it. While it scours the digital abyss for the backstory, I stay focused on the actual deep work.

Will offloading my research to an algorithm make my memory lazier in the long run? Maybe. Do I care? Not really. It’s giving me leverage. It seems my obsession didn't go unnoticed, either. I was recently named an 'AI Champion' in a newly formed global corporate group at work. My goal isn't to preach about the robot takeover; it's to show people how to use this technology as a mental crowbar to lift heavier weights without breaking their backs.

March also means navigating the glorious bureaucracy of tax season. I just drafted my provisional tax return and spent time chasing down a missing school invoice for Okan so I can hit 'approve' tomorrow. Then begins the agonizing wait for the tax refund. It’s funny how the human brain finds a weird, calming satisfaction in checking off these mundane administrative boxes.

Speaking of waiting, the Eid holidays are approaching. Half the year is practically gone. We haven't made concrete summer plans yet due to the usual family uncertainties, but I refuse to let it be another unplanned blur. At 43, you start to realize that a real vacation isn't just about changing your location; it's about reclaiming your mental bandwidth. I need a break where my mind actually rests. (Note to self: I haven't even logged my annual vacation in the system yet. Own your time, or the company will own it for you.)

Notice what I’m not talking about today?

I’m not complaining about being buried alive in corporate stress. The brutal, soul-crushing audit that was weighing on me for months is finally over. A new peer joined the team, balancing the scales.

I’m not saying I’ve suddenly achieved perfect zen and only work a strict 8-to-5. I still have moments where the pressure spikes and drives me crazy. But here is the critical difference: I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m stepping out of that reactive, constant firefighting mode. I actually have the energy to dream again. To set new goals. To think about the future instead of just surviving the week. And honestly? That is the greatest proof of healing.

For now, I'm going to clear out the leftover tasks I pushed to Friday's to-do list. I want to walk into Monday morning with a clean slate, not that familiar pit in my stomach. Protect your peace.

I Remembered I Wasn't Superman

Heading to bed before 10 PM on this Sunday evening, laptop on my lap, and experiencing the justifiable pride of having "No Unread Mails"... Is this a luxury? I’m not sure, but I can’t describe how much I’ve missed this feeling.

Of course, this is somewhat the "calm before the storm." It isn't exactly a profound prediction to guess that work won't magically ease up by tomorrow morning; a mountain of emails, messages, and calls will inevitably rain down on me. But still, I need to experience the momentary peace of having gotten things on track, at least as of tonight.

In the past, at the end of very difficult days, I would wear my exhaustion like a badge of honor and say, "I earned every penny I made today right down to the last cent." Now, the intensity has increased so much that those "hard days" have given way to hard weeks, and even never-ending months.

"Excuses, Excuses..."

Recently, I was messaging my mentor regarding some additional analyses he recommended I do (I’m keeping his name private so he doesn't feel uncomfortable if he reads this, though calling him "my mentor" does sound cool). Overwhelmed by my current workload, I wrote to him saying I could "only do it at night."

His reply was short and sharp: "Excuses, excuses."

When I started listing my tasks to defend myself, he hit me with a sentence that felt like a wake-up call: "The loads you carry are actually the ones you placed on yourself. You need to remember you aren't Superman."

While I was trying to process this shock, a critique from my wife that same evening sealed the deal. When she questioned—with a slightly reproachful tone—why I was working on even irrelevant topics and why I was the one running to fix everything, I was forced to stop and think.

Stopping to Think: The Forgotten Action

Yes, "stopping to think"... It turns out this is the action I’ve skipped most amidst this hustle.

Reflecting on it, I realized that in my desire to be appreciated and to show high ownership in these corporate management processes, I took on more and more. As I tried to maintain the same quality in all my other tasks, this returned to me as overtime shifts stretching into the middle of the night.

The result? I couldn't pay enough attention to my family, and I started noticing health issues—small but whispering, "I'm here." The price was becoming heavier than I thought.

There are only a few days left in the year. I am still motivated to push through and complete this journey with the momentum of the approaching new year. But I’ve put the lesson I learned this week in my pocket: I am not Superman, and I don’t have to be.

I hope that in the new year, I can continue on a more balanced path without forgetting the lessons taught by these intense days.

For now, it’s time to enjoy "Zero Unread Mail"

From Hero to Author: Designing Your Own Leadership Style

“Do you want to be the hero or the victim in the story?”

That question hit me hard recently. My answer? Neither. I want to be the author.

Heroes fight fires. Victims suffer circumstances. Authors design the plot. They decide what matters, what doesn’t, and how the story ends.

Why this matters in leadership

In high-pressure roles, it’s easy to default to operational heroics—being the “go-to” person for everything. It feels good in the moment, but it traps you in someone else’s script. Strategic work suffers, wellbeing erodes, and the system never improves.

Authors think differently:

• They write the ending first: What outcomes must be inevitable?
• They cast roles: Who owns what? Where are the guardrails?
• They edit ruthlessly: If it doesn’t fit the plot, delegate or delete.

My recent shift

After reflecting on feedback (and a candid Officevibe [a corporate survey] moment), I realized I was prioritizing urgent over important. So, I designed a new chapter:

• Clear responsibilities and escalation ladders to stop everything routing to me.
• Micro-automation and playbooks to kill recurring fires.
• Maker–Manager schedule to protect deep work and strategic thinking.
• Wellbeing guardrails—because sustainable performance beats burnout.

I even asked myself daily:

“What chapter am I writing today?”

Not “What inbox fire am I putting out?”

The takeaway

Leadership isn’t about being the hero. It’s about being the author—the one who makes results inevitable through systems, clarity, and foresight.

If you’re feeling stuck in reactive mode, ask:

• What’s the theme of my next chapter?
• What would make me irrelevant here (in a good way)?
• What system would make success inevitable?

Call to Action:

How do you design your own leadership narrative? Drop your thoughts below—I’d love to learn from your stories.

Some photos just after thinking about all these, while walking to the hospital for a check-up.

My Growth Resolution 2025: Strategic Prioritization and Time Management

In the last week of January 2025, my family and I visited a relative in the evening. This was a planned visit, and due to my busy agenda, I couldn't postpone it. It had been a long while since I last saw this relative. Throughout the day, I had operational responsibilities and meetings, leaving me with unanswered emails. I had to take my laptop with me to the evening visit. After the initial conversations, I informed my family about the duties I needed to complete and started reading and replying to my emails while my wife and son enjoyed the visit. By the end of the night, I had read all my unread emails and cleared my to-dos. However, on our way back home, my son said, "Father, you are working so hard nowadays and now you even started to work when we are out." This comment hit me like a wall.

On the evening of January 31st, I read the PMI Global Business Solutions newsletter and the New Year's growth resolutions of our leaders. Inspired by my son's feedback, I decided to define my New Year's resolution for 2025. My focus this year will be on strategic prioritization and time management. Regularly, I will ask myself two questions: 1) What am I doing well? 2) What can I do better? These questions will guide a positive and constructive review of how I am managing my development area in 2025.

CoPilot will be my key enabler in this development journey, providing assistance and insights. Sharing my personal evaluation with CoPilot will help me become a better version of myself. Let's rock 2025!