Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Practiced Reasoning

      “While we naturally understand that writing is a good way to share ideas with others, we under-appreciate just how much good writing helps us think about an idea ourselves. Writing is not only a means of communication, it enables us to practice reasoning.
      Writing forces you to slow down, focus, and think deeply. In a world where attention is fragmented into seconds, thinking becomes more reactive than reasoned. Only when [we] take time to play with our ideas can we hope to think about them substantially. Writing requires sticking with something a little longer and developing a deeper understanding.
      Writing is the process by which we realize we do not understand and the process by which we come to understand.”
      — Shane Parrish, Unspoken Expectations, Brain Food – No. 569 – March 24, 2024

      Until I read Shane Parrish’s latest newsletter, I still had it in my mind—even after a couple of thousand blog posts—that I was writing for others. I had it partially correct. I’ve been writing for myself, to better understand that which I encounter on this dash through the decades, and then to share that processing with you; the reader. I’ve talked of breadcrumbs and the processing of ideas before myself, so the idea isn’t exactly revolutionary, but he hammered it home well enough that I thought I’d practice a bit more reasoning writing about it here.

      The thing about documenting your own reasoning in a blog is that when you publish, you’ve let the world in on a bit of a secret. Deep down, you know more about who I am and how I process information about the world and my experience in it. Sure, I filter out enough that people aren’t guessing my passwords (those simple passwords are long gone anyway) or otherwise hacking my identity, but the bottom line remains clear: unless you’re writing a blog yourself, you know far more about how I think than I know about how you think. Advantage reader?

      Perhaps. But we aren’t adversaries in this game of life, are we? My reasoning, should you choose to follow along, is simply my half of a conversation. And as a writer we ought to view it as such. Otherwise what is it but a dull college lecture or a dad speaking to a table full of people staring at their phones? There are some blog posts that fail to resonate with the world, and it feels a lot like that latter example in such moments of posting into the vacuum of the Internet, but that is exactly the moment to remind myself that this blog post is one human’s humble attempt to reason with the universe and to see what comes from it.

      In a way, writing this blog is similar to playing chess with the computer. The computer always wins, often in frustratingly devious ways (like a cat and the mouse with me always the mouse), but each game is a lesson in strategic thinking for me, even in the loss. When the game is over, was it a waste of time or an incremental step forward towards becoming a better chess player (ie: strategic thinker)? So it is with this blog post and all those that preceded it. Each is an incremental step towards better reasoning, and better writing. And perhaps that’s enough to make me a better human too.

    • The Start is the Thing

      “A year from now you may wish you had started today.” — Karen Lamb

      This quote has been with me for many years now. It’s spurred me to begin habits that turned into streaks and are now part of my identity. But it’s not a magic spell casting itself over all that I wish to do. In fact, it has no power at all over wishes, for wishes live outside of us. We humans may only take steps and the occasional leap forward.

      The start is the thing. From the start we may keep going and start again tomorrow and the next day. Every great system, every great cause, every great partnership—everything great—begins with the start. From it we may then build momentum.

      So what are we waiting for? Wishes? Wishes are low agency. When we wish we want someone else to fill in the steps for us. Steps are high agency. For steps are ours to take. Put one foot in front of the other and soon you’ll be walking across the floor kind of agency.

      The thing is, we can start so many things in a lifetime. We aren’t one trick ponies. Think about all the great things we once started and just kept doing. Maybe some not-so-great things too. Those things we ought to get rid of, starting today.

      Is there a better day than now to start? Always. That’s why we haven’t started already, isn’t it? But a step isn’t a leap, it’s just a step. Start small and make tomorrow’s step a bit bigger, and so on. It doesn’t really matter so much how big the step is, but we’ll look back on it one day as a leap.

    • To Rest

      “The template of natural exchange is the breath, the autonomic giving and receiving that forms the basis and the measure of life itself. We are rested when we are a living exchange between what lies inside and what lies outside, when we are an intriguing conversation between the potential that lies in our imagination and the possibilities for making that internal image real in the world; we are rested when we let things alone and let ourselves alone, to do what we do best, breathe as the body intended us to breathe, to walk as we were meant to walk, to live with the rhythm of a house and a home, giving and taking through cooking and cleaning. When we give and take in an easy foundational way we are closest to the authentic self, and closest to that self when we are most rested. To rest is not self-indulgent, to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves, and to perhaps, most importantly, arrive at a place where we are able to understand what we have already been given.” — David Whyte, Rest

      Some weeks are busier than others. Some are more restful than others too. This past week was more the former than the latter. In the natural ebb and flow of life, I enter the weekend focused on rest and recovery. Perhaps I’ll find it, but then again, I’m back to writing before the dawn.

      Many Americans aren’t particularly good at rest. We charge along, even on our days off, trying to make the most of our time. We forget sometimes the exchange, as Whyte so eloquently reveals: to rest is to prepare to give the best of ourselves. Rest is not self-indulgent, yet we so often believe it to be so.

      To view rest as a natural exchange is to acknowledge that the work will come again, but not just yet. There is a time for everything, including rest. The work will surely be there when we return to it. So if you begin to wonder what I’m up to loafing around so much, remember that I’m not being lazy today: I’m preparing.

    • A Workhorse or Show Pony?

      There’s an old expression, more a question of character, that floats around in the workplace. Simply put, when we talk of employees, are they workhorses or show ponies? Some people shun the spotlight, grind away at the work that must be done and move on to the next project when it’s complete. Some people avoid the tough work but appear busy, and look for the spotlight and the opportunity to shine. The inference, naturally, is to be the workhorse.

      I’ve been the workhorse in my professional life and in my pursuits outside of work. Some days I’d rather be with the ponies prancing around in the green grass, doing nothing much at all. Wouldn’t that be nice? Why must we always be the workhorse? Because who really wants to hang around with show ponies all day? What kind of life is that, friend? A life of posturing and surface-level conversations, lackluster commitment to anything substantive, quick abandonment when fashion changes. Show ponies live a life of bullshit and betrayal. In that world, if you aren’t in the spotlight you’re in the shadow.

      We see examples all around us. I watch a couple of YouTube channels for entertainment. I’ve noticed that some shows start off as one or two workhorses doing what they can to keep afloat. Tough projects are shown, not to celebrate the workhorse nature of the horses, but to show how they did it (with the underlying message being; maybe you can too). The best of these channels retain this spirit, but most spiral into the YouTube formula of chasing subscribers and patreons to fund their adventures. Simply put: most turn into show ponies.

      Did you watch the United States’ State of the Union last week? A room full of show ponies posing as workhorses. Want to make progress in a world full of complicated problems? Elect more workhorses. The problem is that most workhorses don’t want the spotlight, and some turn into show ponies when they find they like the spotlight a little too much. The upcoming election will have a workhorse against a show pony. Deep down we know which is which, and our future is literally at stake based on which horse wins the race.

      The question is, what are we? We can be both at different times in our lives. I was a workhorse for part of the weekend doing projects around the yard. When I’m presenting in front of a room full of people I turn into a show pony, making the most of the spotlight while I’m in it. In between we settle into a routine that reveals who we really are. Anyone can be a workhorse or a show pony, it’s all conditioning and reward. So as we begin another day, isn’t it fair to ask ourselves, “just who do we want to be in this world today?” The world answers, “what do you think we need more of right now?”

    • To Live Creatively

      “Many times, in writing I have looked over my own shoulder from beyond the grave, more alive to the reactions of those to come than to those of my contemporaries. A good part of my life has, in a way, been lived in the future. With regard to all that vitally concerns me I am really a dead man, alive only to a very few who, like myself, could not wait for the world to catch up with them. I do not say this out of pride or vanity, but with the humility not untouched with sadness. Sadness is perhaps hardly the right word either, since I neither regret the course I have followed nor desire things to be any different than they are. I know now what the world is like and knowing I accept it, both the good and the evil. To live creatively, I have discovered, means to live more and more unselfishly, to live more and more into the world, identifying oneself with it and thus influencing it at the core, so to speak. Art, like religion, it now seems to me, is only a preparation, an initiation into the way of life. The goal is liberation, freedom, which means assuming greater responsibility. To continue writing beyond the point of self-realization seems futile and arresting. The mastery of any form of expression should lead inevitably to the final expression—mastery of life. In this realm one is absolutely alone, face to face with the very elements of creation. It is an experiment whose outcome nobody can predict.” — Henry Miller, The Colossus of Maroussi

      Another long quote to start this blog, and surely the SEO needs improvement. So be it. I might have doubled the length for all Henry Miller had to say. In fact, stop reading my blog altogether and go pick up the book. We are the people he had in mind when he wrote these words. Can’t you see him looking over his shoulder at us? If Miller was looking to the future with hopefulness that the world would catch up to his way of thinking, well, he may have been sorely disappointed. We all shake our heads at the madness in the world, and the inclination to dumb it all down for the benefit of the power brokers with all the fancy toys. Some things never change.

      To tag along with Miller as he wanders around Greece on the cusp of World War II is fascinating for the historian in me, for we know how the story ends but not always how the world felt about it as things were playing out. Miller found his soul in Greece just before things got truly crazy. What of us?

      Some of us write to reach self-realization and rarely go beyond it to reach for mastery. I talk a good game myself, but my default is to quiet quit on mastery. It takes a level of discipline I’ve learned I don’t want to grind out of myself to be a master craftsman at anything. I can see it in the pursuits I’ve started and let die out. If the price is to exclude everything else to reach mastery, I’ve come to realize that I won’t pay that price. There are precious few who keep going, which is why there are so very few masters of any craft.

      But there’s hope. If the goal of life is Arete and reaching personal excellence, then the journey never truly ends. Perhaps writing for self-realization is part of the journey that eventually we break through to reach for something more. The only certainty is that the creative journey continues, and so long as the blog posts reach you, you’ll know that I’m still pushing through what Steven Pressfield called the Resistance to find out what’s on the other side.

      There’s a reckoning coming. When we keep pushing ahead it’s inevitable that we’ll face more and more resistance. For us to keep going with the work that calls to us is audacious, and some might say self-serving. This too is recognized as resistance. There comes a point in our lives where we tell our quiet-quitting self that the work means more now. We may still end this trivial pursuit and go on to some other distraction. Just not today.

    • Front Loading Productivity and Purpose

      “Putting first things first means organizing and executing around your most important priorities. It is living and being driven by the principles you value most, not by the agendas and forces surrounding you.” — Stephen Covey

      Early risers are normally starting the day a step ahead, while late risers begin a step behind. That doesn’t translate into what each accomplishes in a day, but it does play a part in how we feel. I hate feeling like I’m late for anything. Some people in my life don’t stress about such things unless it’s a flight or other time-dependent circumstance. Who says one is better than the other? But we know which is better for us.

      Productivity isn’t dependent on starting early, but when we prioritize the right things first it helps ensure that those things get done. For years now that’s been writing, reading and my most essential work tasks. Everything else can fall into place, get piled on or slip to tomorrow, but the day will be deemed a success once I’ve checked those right boxes.

      We know what is essential in our day because it nags at us until we’ve done it. Likewise, we know what isn’t all that important too. To borrow a concept from James Clear, we vote for our identity one checked or ignored habit at a time. He would also suggest making good habits easy to complete, and bad habits more difficult. The best way to do that is to front load the most important things and defer the trivial and bad.

      I know a brisk walk or row would greatly compliment my habit stack in the morning, but I often defer this until late in the day where excuses swirl like leaves in autumn. As a result, the fitness routine is inconsistent. Fortunately I know the fix: do it first. Earn breakfast with sweat equity. Those established habits have enough momentum to sustain a minor deferment.

      The question that greets is each morning is, what drives us? Covey was right that our principles push us forward. When we live a principled life we won’t tolerate excuses from ourselves on why we didn’t at least try harder to follow through on our promises. We become less complacent with where and who we currently are and more proactive in getting after our “it”. For there’s no time to waste.

    • 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.