The Great Lock-In

Every year, as September rolls in, I notice the same energy online: people talking about the “Great Lock-In.”

The idea that between September and December you’re supposed to shut out the world, pick one project, and build something big, something meaningful, maybe even life-changing.

I get the appeal. After the chaos of summer, there’s a sense of focus, of fresh starts. But I can’t help feeling there’s also a darker side to this story. Because the way it’s framed, if you don’t come out of the year with a shiny new product, a successful side project, or some personal breakthrough, you’re left with the quiet sting of inadequacy. Like you’ve wasted the “magical window” that everyone else was smart enough to seize.

We’ve built this collective obsession with productivity, where every season, every moment has to be optimized. The September-December stretch becomes almost mythological: the time when unicorns are built, when focus supposedly comes easier, when discipline should flow naturally. But in reality? Most of us are just juggling work, family, and everyday chaos and no amount of “ambient productivity” will change that.

Another part of the narrative that bothers me is the idea that, with the right discipline, anyone can just lock in and achieve extraordinary results. It glosses over so many invisible factors: privilege, resources, luck. Success stories are rarely solitary, yet the “Great Lock-In” gets packaged like a formula: isolate, focus, produce. If only it were that simple.

Even our creative moments are being turned into something to optimize. “Post-summer clarity,” “lock-in partners” — the language itself feels like productivity-speak trying to capture something that’s supposed to be fluid and messy. Creativity doesn’t always fit into quarterly goals or calendar slots. When we try to package it that way, we risk squeezing the life out of it.

I’ve definitely felt it: that pressure to “choose one thing,” build walls around my time, and prove (mostly to myself) that I can achieve something big before the year ends. But often, the result isn’t motivation, it’s guilt. Because life doesn’t always bend to my productivity plans. Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes the project doesn’t take off. Sometimes nothing happens, and that has to be okay.

The truth is, I don’t think creativity can be scheduled like this. Real breakthroughs often come sideways after failures, during downtime, or in moments that look unproductive from the outside. The obsession with “locking in” risks making us forget that. Maybe the most radical act right now isn’t producing more, faster, or better during the “Great Lock-In.” Maybe it’s allowing ourselves to follow the natural rhythms of our work and our lives.

Success doesn’t need to be squeezed into someone else’s timeline.