How I know when to stop (sometimes)

The tools are endless. The work doesn’t need to be.

One of the trickiest parts of working with AI, or just working with a fast, looping brain, is this: knowing when something is finished.

There’s no natural end point. No satisfying ding. No clear “done” line on the to-do list.

Just the option to keep going. One more edit. One more variation. One more time.

I’ve always liked tools. Prompts. Systems. Things that help when my thoughts won’t hold shape. So when AI arrived, I thought it might be a gift.

And sometimes, it absolutely is.

But often, it feeds the very part of my brain I’m trying to settle. The part that turns one idea into twenty. The part that edits the same sentence for an hour, chasing a version that finally feels right.

The part that doesn’t know when to stop.

This is one of the central tensions in using ADHD productivity tools. When they work, they scaffold clarity. But when they amplify indecision, they’re no longer tools-they’re traps. For systems for fast thinkers, this balance is especially important: too rigid and we resist them, too loose and we fall in.

Borrowing from the analog world

At our fritidshus in Dalarna, a small red house by the Görälven river - tasks don’t loop forever. They finish.

You sweep the stairs. You weed the path. You stack the firewood. And when you’re done, you feel it.

Not perfect. But done.

That kind of completion is harder to find in digital work. But it’s something I’ve started trying to borrow.

Last week, we unloaded and stacked one metric ton of firewood. It took three hours. And at the end, there was no debate.

It was finished. It had weight. Shape. An edge.

There’s something comforting about embodied work. The way your muscles carry memory. The way you don’t question whether sweeping a path was “worth it.” You just see the clean steps and know you did something.

This kind of grounded feedback is missing in most digital work. But physical work, or more specifically exercise - especially for ADHD brains, offers its own system: movement, task, reward. It reminds me what “done” feels like, not just what it looks like on a screen.

If you're curious about how this links to creative productivity more broadly, this article from ADDitude Magazine offers a helpful overview.

A few questions that help

So now, when I feel the spiral start - when I’ve asked AI for a fourth version, when I’m rereading a sentence I’ve already signed off… I pause.

And I ask:

• Would I send this version to someone I trust?

• Is another round helping, or just distracting me?

• Could I close the laptop now and feel okay?

I also have a few prompts I keep in Notion, under a section called “finishing questions.” Sometimes I pull them up when I’ve got five tabs open and no clarity:

• What version of this is good enough for today?

• Am I refining, or just avoiding?

• Where would this live if I stopped here?

These aren’t formulas. They’re gentle nudges. But they help me find an edge where there wasn’t one before.

And most days, that’s all I need to stop.

Learning to pause without finishing

Part of the work, too, is learning to pause without the pressure to finish.

To say, “this is enough for now,” without needing to reach the final version. Because sometimes, especially with strategic or creative work, there isn’t a tidy end.

And when I give myself permission to rest before “done,” I often come back with better ideas. Not because I forced it. But because I left space.

This mindset also helps in collaboration. If I send a working version to a teammate early, I’m less likely to waste hours over-perfecting something they’ll change anyway.

It’s vulnerable. But it’s also efficient. And human.

Done is a feeling

This isn’t a system. It’s a practice. One that’s still in progress.

It’s quiet. Imperfect. Borrowed from the slower rhythms of physical life, the ones that end with sore arms, not more tabs.

If you’re someone who loops, who edits endlessly, who struggles to feel finished: I get it.

And maybe this will help you find your own version of done.

If you want more prompts like this, take a look at 11 AI prompts that actually help my ADHD brain. It pairs well with this post and gives shape to stuck moments.

Care to share?
What helps you stop? I’d love to hear your own questions, cues, or rituals that signal enough. Would love to hear them!

/Rachael