It’s morning. Birds are chirping. Espresso number three hits like a slap from a barista with opinions. Today is the day:
“I’m finally updating my LinkedIn profile.”
Because right now it reads: “Multi-Disciplinary Creative Strategist”, which basically says, “I’ve done… a lot of stuff. Some of it on purpose.”
So I sit down, open my laptop, and visit LinkedIn. I’m not logged in.
Because of course I’m not.
Forgot the password? No biggie.
Hit reset.
Recovery email? Sent to my ancient Yahoo account—the one that still has unopened emails from Ask Jeeves, like a clingy ex.
I try to log in.
Yahoo disagrees.
Apparently, going dark since the Obama era raises red flags. Now I have to verify my identity.
The security question?
“What was your favorite lunch item in fifth grade?”
This is where I could’ve bailed. Drafted the LinkedIn profile changes in a Google Doc. Walked away. Moved on to something else productive.
But no. I’m committed. So I text my mom—historian of all things awkward.
She thinks it was pudding cups. Or maybe those pizza Lunchables.
She also says it’s written in the graduation card… tucked into my old yearbook.
Which is in a box marked “School Stuff.”
In her attic.
She says she’ll help me dig for it if I return the framed photo of her corgi dressed as Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
I say yes.
Because apparently, I have no boundaries.
So I hunt for that photo in my hall closet of clutter and regrets. I find the Notorious D.O.G.—framed and fierce.
And just beneath it?
That pillow.
That glorious, once-high-end, now-floppy yak wool decorative pillow from my “minimalist luxury” phase back in 2005.
But now it’s lumpy. It’s sad.
I swear it sighs when I pick it up.
I could’ve stopped there. I could’ve focused.
But no.
I think: “This pillow deserves better.”
I think: “Fresh yak hair.”
Have you’ve ever felt yak wool? It’s like a hug from a Tibetan cloud.
Soft. Sustainable. Stupidly specific.
And that’s how I end up at the zoo.
Over-caffeinated and strangely determined.
One hand gripping a safety razor. The other, a can of Barbasol.
Face-to-face with a yak that has seen some things… and dares me to try.
All I really wanted was to update my LinkedIn profile.

Welcome to yak shaving: the noble art of getting epically, spectacularly off-track.
Because yak shaving isn’t about the yak. It’s about how perfection, procrastination, and “just one more step” disguise themselves as progress.
The original goal—updating a LinkedIn bio—has now been buried under a mountain of marginally related tasks that feel urgent, but aren’t important. It’s productivity misdirection, and it thrives in ambiguity, perfectionism, and good ol’ human avoidance.
Why It Hits Us So Hard
(Especially If You Have ADHD)
If you’ve ever felt like your brain is a browser with 43 tabs open, and 17 of them are playing music you can’t find—yak shaving might be your default setting. For those with ADHD or a tendency toward hyper-focus misdirection, it’s especially treacherous. The brain gets a dopamine hit from “doing something,” even if it’s not the right thing.
This is where strategic leadership and self-coaching can come in clutch.
How to Recognize a Yak
Before You Shave It
Catch it early, and you save yourself a day (or lifetime) of spinning your wheels. Here are the 5 Yak Flags to watch for:
- Drift from Your Original Goal
Ask yourself: “What was I trying to do in the first place?”- If the answer sounds like a distant memory or a broken resolution from January, you’re drifting.
- Layered Dependencies
Are you suddenly involved in a seven-step prequel to the actual task? That’s a yak chorus forming in the distance. “I can’t do X until I fix Y, but first I need Z…” - False Productivity
You’re busy. You’re tired. You’re sweating. But you’re not actually closer to your goal. You’re in what we call a “productivity pantomime.” - Perfectionism’s Dirty Work
If you catch yourself saying, “It would be better if I just…” more than once, it’s yak time. You’re now prioritizing perfect over progress. - Avoiding the Real Work
Deep down, you know you’re dodging something hard, risky, or meaningful. Yak shaving is a socially acceptable form of procrastination.
How to Avoid the Razor:
A Course-Correction Guide
So you’ve caught yourself mid-shave. Congratulations.
Here’s how to shift gears strategically:
- Reaffirm Your Outcome
Ask: “What exactly am I trying to achieve right now?”- If you can’t state it clearly in one sentence, don’t move until you can.
- Audit the Task Path
Ask: “Is this task directly moving me toward my goal?”- If the answer is a sheepish no, you’re off-track. If it’s a “well, kinda,” then you’re probably standing at the zoo gate with clippers.
- Apply the 80/20 Rule
Ask: “What’s the smallest action that gets me the biggest result?”- There’s almost always a faster way to get most of the outcome with a fraction of the effort. Good enough is often great.
- Make a Pivot Decision
Don’t wait for clarity to arrive in a beam of light. Decide now. What’s the next smallest, effective step you can take?- Example: Forget the pillow. Get the password reset. Update your bio. Be free.
- Set a Constraint
Time-boxing is your new best friend.
Try: “I’ll give this 20 more minutes, then ship it or skip it.”- It cuts the spiral off at the knees.
- Reflect and Reset
Once you’ve made it out, don’t just move on.
Ask:- “What just happened?”
- “What did I learn about my focus patterns?”
- “What would I do differently next time?”
This is how you turn one yak shaving incident into a permanent upgrade to your operating system.
Coaching Yourself (or Others)
Out of the Spiral
This is where coaching steps in. You don’t need a yak-tracking app. You need powerful questions and a grounded mirror.
Here’s a thought process to try (or use with a team member who looks suspiciously hairy):
- Clarify the Real Goal
- “What did you originally set out to accomplish?”
- “What would ‘done’ look like if it were simple?”
- Spot the Drift
- “How does what you’re doing right now connect to your goal?”
- “What was the moment things started to shift?”
- Interrupt the Spiral
- “What’s the cost of continuing this?”
- “If you stopped this task now, what would actually happen?”
- Return to the Path
- “What’s the next smallest action that moves you forward?”
- “If you had 10 focused minutes, what would you do?”
- Build Future Focus
- “What sign should you watch for next time?”
- “What’s one boundary you can set to stay on track?”
Leading Yak-Free Teams
Yak shaving isn’t just a solo sport. When teams get involved, it mutates.
Suddenly, you’re not just shaving the yak. You’re massaging it, feeding it artisan oats, and giving it a wellness plan. Hello, committee culture.
Leaders,
your job isn’t just to assign tasks.
It’s to protect focus.
Ask: “Is this project about updating my password or reinventing yak hair styles?”
Strategic compromise and real-time recalibration are your best tools. Don’t let perfection be the enemy of completion.

Final Thought from the Sherpa Trail
Leadership isn’t about working harder; it’s about walking wisely. Yak shaving is a reminder that not all motion is progress.
So, the next time you feel that urge to “just fix the hose first,” stop.
Put down the clippers.
Reset the password.
And leave the yak alone.