Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Countdown Days

      I dabble in spreadsheets. It began (and continues) as a necessary skill in my career, but really I love the story that numbers tell you. Not too long ago I mapped out the next five years on a spreadsheet, just to see what I was working with. Using a specific date of relevance as a target date for zero, I created a countdown to that date. It turned out to be a nice round number: 1900. That became my five year plan number, and so a countdown began.

      A countdown to what? Why, the person I want to be at that number. What I want to be doing and where I want to be doing it. All sorts of things come into play then: fitness level, financial goals, career accomplishments, places to be visited, books to be read or written, and yes: daily blog posts (who’s up for 1900 more?!).

      You can fit a lot into 1900 lines on a spreadsheet if you try hard enough. I have many goals in my life, and I started plugging in events and trips and milestones onto that spreadsheet. It turns out there’s a lot to do in 1900 days, and one can’t very well waste them. But 1900 is a big number, best broken down into bite-sized bits. 90 days is something many of us can relate to. It’s a quarter of a year, three months, one trimester. 90 days is a number we can grasp and work with. Divide 1900 by 90 and you get 21 and change. It turns out 1900 wasn’t optimal after all, but it’s the number and loose change be damned. That loose change is full of days of ripe experience, or at least they ought to be, and who’s going to complain about a few extra days as a buffer against the curveballs of life?

      90 days offer countdowns within countdowns. We can break it down to 30 days and weeks and single days, and do what we can with them in their time. Life is a countdown, and we all know the score. The end game isn’t the zero we reach on our expiration but the blank spaces we fill up along the way. Putting things in black and white offers a clear imperative. Do something with today lest it slip away. Tempus fugit.

      Upcoming events become countdowns within a countdown too. Some trips I’m looking forward to are counting down as I write this, and I calculate the things that must happen between now and then, adding to-do items to a growing list and get to it. There’s growing excitement in a countdown, and I feel the stir of faraway places and future goals and tasks accomplished in each entry on the spreadsheet.

      The key to a blank spreadsheet is filling in what we’re measuring. We aren’t just counting down to nothing after all: we’re creating a lifetime of memories, filled with all the things that make up our days. A countdown merely brings focus to an otherwise ambiguous stack. Like any great salesperson, we must sell the vision. In this case, we’re selling ourselves on the vision, that we might take the necessary steps to get from here to there. When we finish, we can see all the things we did to get there, and celebrate the journey all the more.

      But why five years and change? Haven’t we got so much more left in the tank than that? We must set a fixed date in our future that we might strive for more in that timeframe. Sure, we all anticipate many more days. If we’re lucky enough we can add a few more countdowns after this one is done. But that’s a much longer spreadsheet, isn’t it? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

    • Easier vs. Harder

      “Hard choices, easy life. Easy choices, hard life.” ― Jerzy Gregorek

      It’s easier to defer. I’ve been deferring a project for two years that I’ve done twice before and know deep down just how time-consuming it will be for me. But I also recall just how fun it was to do, and how much pride I had in the finished product once complete. Yet I watch the time tick away, days turn into months, months pile into a couple of years now and counting. And what was once a small project is growing into an albatross around my neck.

      The easiest way to start a hard project is to simply begin with the first step. The next step will become apparent, and it turns out it’s not all that big a step. Which brings to mind a holiday tune that may be out of season but never fully out of my brain:

      You never will get where you’re going
      If ya never get up on your feet
      Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowin’
      A fast walking man is hard to beat
      Put one foot in front of the other
      And soon you’ll be walking ‘cross the floor
      — Jules Bass, Put One Foot in Front of the Other

      This blog is a good example in my own life of something that was nagging at me for years before I simply began. One post turned into many, and soon I began a streak that is well past two thousand. Some posts are better than others, but the journey is clearly towards improvement and progression. We are what we repeatedly do, as I repeatedly quote, as much a reminder to myself as to the reader, who is generally a step ahead of me on the concept.

      We began one project this weekend that had been nagging me for years. I mentioned it to my bride, she immediately agreed (relieved no doubt that I’d finally decided to take action) and we’ll finish it this weekend. It turns out the project isn’t as painful as thinking about doing the project. Which brings us full circle back to that albatross I referenced earlier. Now that the one project is done, the other remains, mocking me for the time it’s taking to just leap. Just decide and get to it already.

      The thing is, there will always be projects when we consistently move forward in our lives. The only people without projects are those who choose to linger in the identity they once had. Life is hard enough without us getting in our own way. It will be a whole lot easier in the long run if we do the hard work now.


    • To Fish or Cut Bait

      “An ounce of action is worth a ton of theory.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

      We can plan indefinitely but not go anywhere, and we can leap into the unknown with nothing but a flash of inspiration to guide us. But at some point in our lives we must fish or continue to cut bait.

      Some days we look up with amazement at how much we have done. Some days feel completely wasted. The only thing to do is learn its lesson, put it behind us and lean into our next day. We win some, we lose some—the only tragedy ls to never try again.

      Just don’t return to cutting bait. What kind of life is that? Go fish.

    • On Pace

      “Everything and everyone at their own pace. Flow with not against yourself.” ― Akiroq Brost

      There’s no doubt some days are busier than others, but barring the random crisis that falls from the sky, in general we create the conditions within which we live our days. So when our pace of life feels frenetic, in general that’s on us for choosing a lifestyle that is perpetually reactive and jammed. Most of us have the agency to change our state over time.

      In general, I write and publish blog posts early in the morning before the world has a say in how I spend my time. When the world comes a-knockin’ it becomes exponentially harder to write. So protecting that time with minimal sensory download from the world allows me to honor the quiet space my mind enters when writing. Once that door is cracked open, it’s all over.

      I’ve thought about changing to a long-form blog post, published weekly instead of daily. I haven’t done that mostly because clicking publish every day is one of the primary reasons I write every day. The moment I take that tangible check box away (publishing), the moment my sense of urgency to write fades. My identity as a blogger is very much associated with publishing.

      Pace is a mindset as much as a physical output. Our capacity and limitations determine our pace, but so too does our decision-making. We can run at top speed until the wheels come off or we can make a pit stop now and then. We know the wheels are coming off when we start to wobble a bit. And we know when the tank is running dry when our engine starts to cough. It goes without saying that we don’t want to run at that pace if we’re in it for the long haul.

      Ultimately, pace is determined by deciding what the finish line is and adjusting our day-to-day accordingly. We can sprint until we stumble and fall flat on our face, but what good is that if we’re only a mile into a marathon? Pace becomes as essential to finishing as starting in the first place. We decide what to be and can go be it, but only if we set a sustainable pace from here to there.

    • The Rhythm of Routine

      “Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” ― Will Durant, The History of Philosophy

      We get into a rhythm of routine in our lives. When we travel frequently this becomes our rhythm. When we hike or sail or play pickle ball every free moment we’re in a rhythm of routine. And when we do nothing but stare at a computer monitor all day we’re most definitely in a rhythm of routine. We find a rhythm that works for us and we dance with it for as long as we feel the beat in our souls.

      We’re just past two weeks into a new year as this is published. It’s a good chance to review progress thus far and ask ourselves, are we getting where we thought we’d go when we rounded the corner on last year? Does that rhythm of routine feel right or do we need to change the playlist? Are the weekends filling up with joyful pursuits, or are we stumbling through to Monday? Does the work feel right or are we looking towards Friday?

      We are reminded now and then that we need the right dance partner or we never quite feel the rhythm enough to dance with it. Sure, we can dance by ourselves, but what’s the fun in that? Any adventure in life is better together. With the right partner, we become accountable, and push each other just enough to go that much farther into the world. And surely, the right partner also keeps us from charging off the cliff when we get ahead of ourselves.

      Looking at my own daily habit tracker, I see a pattern very similar to last year’s habit track. Some things I defined as absolutely essential to the rhythm I want to be dancing in aren’t being checked frequently, if at all. Some are tracking nicely to firmly establish themselves as part of my identity. Nothing speaks more clearly than the truth staring back at you in black and white. We must measure our progress, that we may reconcile our beliefs with our behavior.

      Indeed we are what we repeatedly do. Does the rhythm of our routine feel right for us to reach personal excellence? The answer lies in progress—incremental or in big leaps forward. Are we getting there, or settling into a routine of excuses and complacency? We can reset ourselves at any time, really. Why not now?

    • Time Will Have His Fancy

      ‘The years shall run like rabbits,
      For in my arms I hold
      The Flower of the Ages,
      And the first love of the world.’
      But all the clocks in the city
      Began to whirr and chime:
      ‘O let not Time deceive you,
      You cannot conquer Time.
      ‘In the burrows of the Nightmare
      Where Justice naked is,
      Time watches from the shadow
      And coughs when you would kiss.
      ‘In headaches and in worry
      Vaguely life leaks away,
      And Time will have his fancy
      To-morrow or to-day.
      — W.H. Auden, As I Walked Out One Evening

      January seems to be the time for planning out the year in neat blocks of time, priorities and action steps. It’s fairly easy work to define what must be done, it’s harder to actually do it. The execution of a plan is always the trick, isn’t it? Yet broken down into small enough steps, we somehow find the task more manageable. It seems there’s always enough time for the things that matter most, should we build our lives around our priorities. But time has other plans for us, should we lose our way.

      Lately in my work I talk a lot of urgency. We ought to feel it in our bones, and do something about it now. It’s cliché for a reason, for it matters a great deal in said execution of plan. It’s a call to arms, really—a reminder that time flies and the wishes of today are the regrets of tomorrow. We must therefore seize what flees, as our old friend Seneca reminded us.

      Later in Auden’s magical poem, he writes of wondering what we’ve missed. Wrestling with the eternal, we realize that we are not. We are but a moment’s sunlight, fading in the grass, as Chet Powers wrote and The Youngbloods made famous. It’s an unfair practice to dwell on that which has slipped from our grasp if we use the tally to embrace a helpless state of low agency, but when we use these moments to learn to be bolder in our choices now they may be just the catalyst we need. Feel the urgency yet? Carpe diem, friend. Tempus fugit.

      All this is nothing but a stack of words until we do something with our time. Be bold. Be audacious. Decide what to be and go be it. Today will slip away just as all the rest have. Yet we may still do something with the hour at hand.

    • On Action

      “Action may not always bring happiness, but there is no happiness without action. ”
      ― William James

      There’s nothing more essential to getting to where we’d like to be than a bias towards action. Want to have a better relationship? Earn it with attention. Want to be a better writer? Read, experience the world more and write about it often. Want to be fit? Stop wishing for it and get moving already. We know deep down that the answer is action.

      We can’t close a gap without effort. We can’t climb a corporate ladder or a mountain peak without moving one step at a time higher than we currently are. To open a door previously closed to us, we must first reach the door before we can open it and step through. Take the steps necessary to get there.

      Personally, I have a five year plan for where and who I want to be. To reach that person in that place, there are some clear steps necessary to bring me there. Most essential is taking care of the mind and body that will carry me there. We can work all our days for a goal, but we won’t reach it if we physically slide sideways off the cliff. The rest is identifying the systems, routines and habits essential to getting us to our goals, scheduling and tracking them from now until the end. We’re building a lifestyle of active participation, not just reaching some summit.

      How we want to live is as essential to ask ourselves as who we want to be. We may never close the gap fully, but a lifestyle built making ourselves better than we were yesterday is inherently optimistic and happier than one built trying to hold on to the pieces of who we once were. Be a builder instead. What is the gap and what are the steps necessary to close it? Once it’s all laid out for us, the rest is taking that first step and following with the next.

    • Revisiting the 20/10 “Stop Doing” Exercise

      “Suppose you woke up tomorrow and received two phone calls. The first phone call tells you that you have inherited $20 million, no strings attached. The second tells you that you have an incurable and terminal disease, and you have no more than 10 years to live. What would you do differently, and, in particular, what would you stop doing?” — Jim Collins

      “If it’s not a hell yes, then it’s a no!” — Derek Sivers

      This idea of contemplating our expiration date (memento mori) combined with the possibility of having the financial freedom to do whatever we want with the time is an essential filtering mechanism for designing our future. It’s almost never about the big ticket money activities, it’s about carving out time for the simple things in life, like being there for the kids or having the lifestyle commitment and personal responsibility to get a puppy. Sure, money helps, but it’s freedom people seek in their lives. The fastest way to freedom is saying no to more things.

      We ought to remember we all have a terminal disease, whatever our timeline, and get busy prioritizing the essential over all the rest. Life is a short game, best fully-optimized. We’ll never fully reach that level of excellence, but we can aspire to close the gap. Instead of resolutions, we may choose instead to define what our “no’s” will be, that we may have the space for those “hell yes’s”

    • Unfailing and Habitual Consistency

      “Remember we wrote in Good to Great that big things happen by pushing on a giant, heavy flywheel. You start pushing in an intelligent and consistent direction, and after a lot of work you get one giant, slow, creaky turn, but you don’t stop. You keep pushing and you eventually get two turns and four and sixteen and thirty-two and sixty-four and one hundred and one thousand; pushing; cumulative, consistent momentum; and at one point it’s one hundred thousand and then a million turns in that flywheel. Big things happen because you do a bunch of little things supremely well that compound over time. This is what we learned. We see tremendous consistency in any truly great enterprise. The signature of mediocrity is not an unwillingness to change—although, and we’ll get to this, if you don’t change, you become irrelevant—but the true signature of mediocrity is chronic inconsistency.” — Jim Collins

      If the signature of mediocrity is chronic inconsistency, then the signature of personal excellence (Areté) is unfailing and habitual consistency. It’s staying to task, every day until something more essential to our being becomes our task. Blogging every day is pushing the flywheel. So is exercise and changing the engine oil and washing the dishes and doing the most tedious-but-essential things in our chosen path. We do these things not because they’re always joyful, but because they are part of our identity today and ensure that we continue from here to our future identity. The opposite of order is chaos.

      There were several times writing this blog that I thought it would be my last post. There’s so many things to do, and beginning each morning with writing delays some other essential habits from forming. But the writing has taken me to places I hadn’t anticipated when I began, and the path forward looks promising. That’s not a reason not to question the flywheel I happen to be pushing (who wants to run around in circles for nothing?), but to embrace the process of becoming what’s next that the writing offers. The trick is to stack other positive habits into this routine to ensure success. The writing isn’t pushing me away, it’s those other habits that need attention that are pulling.

      Systems and routines are our salvation or an albatross. We are what we do. We must therefore keep pushing.

    • Our Sine Qua Non

      “Taking charge of your own learning is a part of taking charge of your life, which is the sine qua non in becoming an integrated person.” ― Warren Bennis

      Sine qua non (without which, not) is that essential ingredient in the recipe that brings everything else together. It’s not a phrase we’re likely to throw out there when we’re discussing the oil in the engine with our mechanic, but we can see how it could be. When applied to our identity, it’s the essence of who we are. When applied to who we might become, it’s the essential things that we must master within ourselves to close the gap and be that next person.

      Warren Bennis was one of the first business gurus I followed early in my career. I’d fancied myself a leader and his books on leadership were insightful and inspiring. There was a big gap between where I was in my career and where I thought I ought to be, but knowing that gap we begin to make choices that bring us closer to where we want to be. Remove the corporate aspirations, as I eventually did, and we’re left with a credo for personal leadership in any situation. We take charge of our lives when we embrace our own personal growth.

      So what of becoming an integrated person? What exactly does that demand of us? Isn’t it another way of saying we’re fully optimizing ourselves? This requires balance in our fitness, in our relationships, in spirituality and in whatever it is that calls us to greatness in our craft. Everything we become is an output of what we bring in, processed by that great differentiator that is our essential identity, and placed out in the world for the world to try to understand.

      We are each unique actors—we all have our verse, as Whitman put it—and we each grow into ourselves. All while dancing with the world as the character we are in that moment. Our essence remains the same, but we change over time. Some change is deliberate (decide what to be and go be it), some is environmental (we are the average of the five people we surround ourselves with) and some is born within us as natural talent or inclination that we lean into as it speaks to us. The trick is to keep growing in ways that makes us more complete.

      Sine qua non is a useful lens through which to view our growth: Without learning this, I will not become that. Without doing this exercise more consistently, I will never get to a point where I can do that other thing. Without writing every day I’ll never develop the self-understanding and proficiency to both know myself and to grow in the craft I aspire to master. Each “without” points towards the essence of what must be to become what we may be.

      As we close out yet another year on the planet, we begin to think about the possibility of whom we might become in the next year. There’s a place in our lives for the well-timed leap, but we ought to remember that big leaps can be bruising if we don’t land where we anticipated. Leaps are often a sign of impatience with where we are versus where we want to be. Small, incremental improvements seem to be the best way to close gaps. We can then naturally step across that once-daunting chasm towards what we want to become.