Are You a Plodder or a Prancer?

Abstract images floating - makes one think of thinking, perhaps?

Are you a plodder or a prancer? This was a question posed at an event I attended a few weeks back from a well-known author to an audience of rapt attendees. And it stuck with me, not because it was novel (pun intended), but it was a more simplified way of looking at how we bucket ourselves - think Myers-Briggs or Whole Brain Model or even 16 Personalities.

What does it mean to be a Plodder?

Plodders are the steady ones. They put one foot in front of the other with a kind of deliberate rhythm. Their desks might not be pristine, but they know where everything is. They have systems, routines, rituals that have calcified over years into something dependable. The plodder's motto might be: "Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast."

When a plodder tackles a project, they break it into manageable chunks. They make incremental progress. They don't get distracted by the shiny new productivity app or the revolutionary filing system. They've found what works, and they work it. There's something almost meditative about the plodder's approach—a trust in repetition, in showing up, in the compounding effects of consistent effort.

The plodder's workspace reflects this philosophy. Maybe there are stacks of papers, but they're organized stacks. The to-do list is written in the same notebook they've used for years. There's comfort in the familiar, in knowing that progress doesn't require inspiration, just dedication.

OK, What About Prancers?

Prancers, on the other hand, move with a different energy entirely. They're light on their feet, darting from one thing to another with apparent ease. They thrive on variety, on the creative spark that comes from mixing things up. The prancer's world is more spontaneous, more responsive to mood and moment.

When prancers organize, they do it in bursts—a Sunday afternoon where everything gets color-coded and beautiful, a late-night reorganization of the entire filing system because a new idea struck. They're drawn to elegant solutions, to tools that feel good to use, to workspaces that inspire. They might have three different planning systems going at once, each capturing a different facet of their thinking.

The prancer's approach to work can look chaotic from the outside, but there's often a hidden logic to it. They know which pile has the urgent stuff. They remember that brilliant idea from two weeks ago and exactly where they jotted it down (probably in one of four notebooks). They excel at making connections between disparate things, at finding creative solutions precisely because they don't follow the well-worn path.

The Truth Is Messier

Of course, most of us aren't purely one or the other. We're plodders about some things and prancers about others. Maybe you're a plodder with your finances but a prancer with your creative projects. Maybe you plod through the workweek and prance through the weekends.

And sometimes, we need to be one when we're naturally the other. The plodder has to learn to be nimble when circumstances shift rapidly. The prancer has to learn to settle into a groove when a project demands sustained, unglamorous effort.

The real question isn't which one is better—it's which one serves you in this particular moment, for this particular challenge. Can you plod when you need to build something substantial over time? Can you prance when you need to adapt, to see things freshly, to inject some life into a routine that's gone stale?

Maybe the wisdom is in knowing yourself well enough to recognize your natural gait, but staying limber enough to change your step when the music changes.

So which are you, most of the time? And more interestingly—when do you need to be the other?