Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Useful in the Doing

      “We, I think, in these times, have had lessons enough of the futility of criticism. Our young people have thought and written much on labor and reform, and for all that they have written, neither the world nor themselves have got on a step. Intellectual tasting of life will not supersede muscular activity.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson, Experience

      This I know to be true: sweat equity in any endeavor is the best way to invest in ourselves, to say nothing of the endeavor. When we labor for something more than ourselves we have a stake in the game. There’s no better way to live in this fragile moment than to be invested in it.

      Lately I’ve noticed a tendency to publish later in the day than I used to. This is largely a symptom of filling my mornings with more purpose. I expect that my schedule will settle back into a normal routine soon enough, hopefully not at the expense of purpose but by leaning into structure. Time will tell, but I know I will be rolling up my sleeves and doing my part for as long as my health allows. May that be far longer than the norm.

      As I write this, I’ve walked more than 30,000 steps today in service to things bigger than myself. Is that cause for celebration? Of course not, but it signals a well-spent day. We are placed on this earth either to occupy space or to be useful. Give me useful.

    • Thoughts on the Scramble

      “Only those who decline to scramble up the career ladder are interesting as human beings. Nothing is more boring than a man with a career.” — Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago

      A few days of sailing had the desired effect. The stress accumulated, overflowing and leaking out of my pores, revealed in comments and recent blog posts was finally released. That’s a symptom of too many active endeavors leading up to a boiling point, of sorts, without the necessary reprieve of time off. Why do we do this to ourselves? Because we’re seeking meaning in prestige, earning potential and perceived value others place on us. It’s nice to be wanted, and even needed, even as it sucks the very life out of us at times. So it goes.

      We ought to lean into our vocation, and less so into pursuits less worthy of our brief dance with vitality. But ought to’s are tricky things. There are things we must do and things we might do, and things that fall in between. Life is this navigation and this dance.

      To be a great navigator is to decide on a proper course based on the relevant data, while ignoring the frivolous tangential information. So do we question our active pursuits? Shouldn’t we? How else can we determine the essential from the tangential?

      What we fill our days with ought to matter a great deal. Even as I write this, I’m weighing the high of a few days off from my primary work, an admittedly lighter lift on blog posts and time with exceptional people against a keen desire to open up the work computer to set the table for a productive week. If time off is so fulfilling, why are we so eager to roll up our sleeves and get back to business? What gives?

      When we find meaningful ways to contribute, ways that offer value to others while speaking to something within us, we’ve reached a state of working bliss. This may sound ridiculous on the face of it, but there’s something to being productive in work that matters to us, even as there is also value in doing the essential things that aren’t that work. So if traveling to fascinating places, learning new languages and skills, sailing, hiking, reading great books and poetry and socializing with great friends makes a person more interesting, so too might dabbling in work that matters. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

      This isn’t a contradiction, it’s a personal audit of what matters most, which we all ought to do from time to time. Work that matters carries us to places of joy, purpose and yes, usefulness. This makes us more than interesting, it makes us contributors in the game of life, raising the stakes for the lot of us. This calling is ours alone. For what are we here for but to be useful in our own unique way?

    • Sunrise, Tenants Harbor

      Tenants Harbor, a village in the town of St. George, Maine, was once full of schooners in various stages of construction. It retains that working harbor feel today, but today it’s lobster boats that fuel the economy. This is very obvious at sunrise, as the boats ply the waters to haul up traps to harvest any lobsters unlucky enough to have taken the bait. The lobsters will be gobbled up all over the world, and especially in restaurants and seafood shacks throughout coastal Maine. So it goes.

      Still, some of us seek a respite from work in places like this. I’ve gently placed my obligations and commitments to the side in favor of rest and relaxation for a few days. There are 4000 islands in Maine and they say 3,478 miles of tidal coastline. Along that coastline there are seals, dolphins, loons and whales. Other than writing a bit, this particular time bucket will lean into exploring some of that coastline.

      Anchors aweigh.

    • Catching Days

      “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.” ― Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

      The days fly by, don’t they? We fill our hours with chaos and whim or reason and order, and so goes our life. Structure thus becomes a means to a more fulfilling lifespan. That doesn’t infer rigidly-defined productivity at the expense of joyful experience, but rather using our time strategically to make the most of the what’s available to us.

      Just imagine: Imagine what we can do with our lives should we add a bit of informed structure to our driving purpose. Imagine the places we might see, the people we might influence. Imagine the ripple set across time with just a bit more focus on catching days. Imagine following through on that quiet commitment you made to yourself to do the work that speaks to you.

      We know that focusing means saying no to the parade of other options that flood our senses. No to watching that amazing episode of The Office for the nth time, no to diving into that trendy new hobby that friends are doing, no to all kinds of potential fun that we may say yes to this other thing. But that’s the rub: to do anything well we must do most everything else less well, or not at all.

      “Living life to the fullest requires settling. You must settle, in a relatively enduring way, upon something that will be the object of your striving, in order for that striving to count as striving.” — Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks

      So are we striving for something or simply going through the motions? We choose how we react to the world as it’s presented to us, and in that reaction is our opportunity to fill our moments with something more meaningful than the other options on the table. In the heat of the moment life can feel frenzied and limited. We can’t possibly do everything.

      When we think of life in terms of time buckets or seasons, it can help bring clarity to what is essential now, versus then, and allow us to prioritize accordingly. What is most essential right now? Life would be boring with blinders on the entire time—to live fully we must open ourselves up to the world around us—but that doesn’t let us off the hook. We must carve out time for what is essential lest the time slip away forever.

    • ChatGPT (as?) Me

      ChatGPT can be seen as a tool to enhance productivity or to accelerate the end of days. The optimist in me sees the potential in Artificial Intelligence (AI). As with any technology, it’s people who weaponize it. The moment you can create a nuclear weapon out of household goods is the day we all should contemplate the afterlife. Assuming controls are in place, we might actually find value in AI. Then again, it might just steal all of our jobs. As a creative type, I have to admit to being both delighted and humbled by the speed and accuracy of ChatGPT when I started using it.

      Consider my chat, “summarize War and Peace in one paragraph”:

      “War and Peace” is a classic novel by Leo Tolstoy, set in 19th-century Russia during the Napoleonic era. The epic story revolves around the lives of five aristocratic families and their experiences during times of war and peace. It delves into themes of love, ambition, fate, and the human condition. The narrative masterfully interweaves the personal journeys of its characters, showcasing the effects of war on society and individuals, while also exploring profound philosophical reflections on life and historical events. The novel’s vast scope and intricate character development make it a timeless exploration of the human spirit, offering profound insights into the complexities of human relationships, the consequences of our actions, and the pursuit of personal and societal meaning.

      Now consider something far more personal for me, “summarize the content of alexandersmap.com in one paragraph”:

      “Live with intention, embrace the journey, and seek a deep connection with the world around you. Be curious, explore new places, and appreciate the beauty of nature. Cultivate gratitude for the small moments and cherish the relationships with loved ones. Embrace challenges as opportunities for growth, and find balance between work, leisure, and reflection. Understand that life is a continuous learning process, and wisdom comes from experiences, failures, and self-awareness. Strive to leave a positive impact on others and the planet, fostering a sense of community and global consciousness. Ultimately, find purpose in living authentically, mindfully, and with a sense of wonder, making the most of every moment on this extraordinary journey through life.”

      Wow. Lovely summary, and great advice! But it raises a serious question: Why go on writing? If AI can tap into everything we’ve ever done and write in our style, why should we create anything at all? Well, because we are each processing our own data aren’t we? Life is a string of days figuring things out at our own pace, and writing offers a way to create something beyond ourselves. We ought to continue writing our own verse, not just in spite of it all, but because the ripple matters. ChatGPT didn’t create my words, it summarized them from an admittedly modest ripple across the Internet. Somewhere within there is my contribution. Somewhere in there is me.

      In the context of infinity none of this matters a great deal anyway, but it matters just enough to keep at it. We aren’t nihilists, we’re artists. Art is an expression of something profoundly unique deep within us. Maybe AI can mine a large enough sample size to offer a close-enough copy, but it’s still nothing but a derivative of the original work. So keep doing the work.

    • Push and Pull

      “Pull the string and it will follow wherever you wish. Push it, and it will go nowhere at all.” — Dwight D. Eisenhower

      Motivation is a pull. It is something that is internal that fuels you, that drives you.” — Julie Gurner, Dr. Julie Gurner (Part 1): Caring Deeply, Challenging Directly [The Knowledge Project Ep. #169]

      Lately I’ve been pushing myself to finish a few projects that have been mocking me for not completing them. Mountains to hike, work projects to finish, customers to meet with. I find in each case that the self talk isn’t supportive encouragement but sternly disciplinarian: “Do it already!” instead of “Isn’t this a great time to finish?” And shockingly, I find the mountains aren’t being hiked, the projects are stalled, and certain customers aren’t getting the face time they need. The push isn’t working all that well.

      I used to go to the dentist anticipating the lecture about flossing more. One day I decided to add it to my habit tracker as a box to fill in each day of every month, and thus forever. I’ve found that I haven’t missed a day since then, and my dentist is a lot happier with me as a result. Is this a push, not missing a day, or a pull? I think the latter. I’m drawn to streaks, and make it a point to mark as many days as possible before missing one. Flossing is an easy habit, writing is more time-consuming, yet I write this blog every day no matter what. Some days it may be a small post, and on some particularly challenging days it may likely be a post not fully fleshed out yet, but damn it there’s a blog post sitting here every day. When I miss the morning it calls to me every moment until I finish it. That’s a pull.

      Eisenhower was a great leader because he believed in leading from the front. You pull your team up and over obstacles and challenges, you don’t get great long term results when you push them. Lead by example. The old adage “do as I say, not as I do” rings true because we all quickly see the fallacy of trying to follow someone pushing from behind. It’s the same with bosses and coaches as it is with generals. Show you’re invested and we’ll follow you anywhere.

      Another old adage, “follow your passion”, is often dismissed as unrealistic in a world where the bills need to be paid and there are only so many passion jobs to go around. Yet it rings true. We do our best work when we’re drawn to it. We go through the motions when we feel it a chore. Flossing was a chore until it became a game of never breaking the streak. Writing was an unfulfilled dream until it became a daily mission. You probably have a few things that pull you equally hard, saying, “This is the way.”

      It’s not in our best interest to be frivolous with all that attracts us—there are habits and behaviors that clearly shouldn’t be followed at all. But the underlying draw ought to be examined. Why are we drawn this way? What is the root positive within this pull that will help in my development? Put another way, is this a good habit worth following, or a bad habit that feels good in the moment? Choose wisely and check the right boxes. Forget the push; seek the pull.

    • Upsetting the Apple Cart

      They say that habits are made to be broken. But who wants to break positive habits? Still, every now and then our routines are disrupted by forces out of our control. Sometimes people or events occur that upset the apple cart. Sometimes [gasp] even the very things that define our identity are disrupted.

      This summer has been a stack of disruptions that are taking their toll on my systems and routines. A home remodeling project, great and much-needed time with family and friends, and soon, a new puppy in the family all conspire to disrupt the very routines established to improve my health, fitness and intelligence. These are all worthwhile disruptions, so the trick isn’t to eliminate pattern disruptors, but to modify my habits to account for them. We can’t do everything, but we must continue to do the really important things.

      Our systems and routines help structure our days, allowing us to think about other things while the things we ought to be doing get done on autopilot. When that autopilot fails us, we must revert back to deliberate action. Doing things out of order is confusing, missing a day entirely is frustrating, but giving up on a positive habit should be out of the question. Start anew, with renewed vigor and focus. Most importantly, check the box and stabilize that apple cart again. For we still have much work to do in our days.

    • The Net Benefit of Intervals

      I’ve always favored steady state work. Slow and easy may not win the race, but it keeps you in it for the long haul. The drawback is that your body and mind get used to this pace, creating a sense of apathy and inertia. Sometimes you simply don’t feel like you’re getting anywhere very quickly.

      Intervals are a great way to change things up. In rowing, this might mean doing ten 500 meter pieces with a minute off in between, rather than rowing 5000 meters in a steady state set. You end up doing more overall with the same distance as your mind and body commit to working harder for a shorter distance, knowing it will be over soon enough and you’ll have a bit of rest. I can shave two full minutes off the same distance in this way, while getting my heart rate up to places I couldn’t sustain for a longer distance. I’ve begun to mix in more and more interval training to see how my body (and mind) react. I’m far from the peak fitness days of college rowing, but workouts like this bring me a lot closer to those glory days. More importantly, they set me up for greater success with my fitness goals looking forward.

      The principle of intervals works equally well in our work. Rather than slog through a steady state of distracted work, I’ll put on my noise cancelling headphones, play the same Mark Knopfler instrumental song on repeat and power through a specific task until it’s done. This works equally well for writing as it does for finishing an expense report or developing a pivot table for trend analysis. It’s just you and the work, with a defined end point that’s close enough that you know you can get there without checking the phone ten times to see what’s happening in the world. As with the rowing, when you finish a day full of these intervals of focused work, you find that you’ve done far more than the norm.

      Our lives may feel like steady state as we plod along, one day to the next, doing the best we can in a distracting world. Breaking things down to intervals—this day, this hour, these next five minutes, creates the focus and urgency to get things done. Even if we aren’t enjoying this particular interval, we know it will be over soon enough. And just look what we might accomplish when we add it all together.

    • A Hunger for Eternity

      “Certainly there is within each of us a self that is neither a child, nor a servant of the hours. It is a third self, occasional in some of us, tyrant in others. This self is out of love with the ordinary; it is out of love with time. It has a hunger for eternity.” — Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

      We wrestle with the ordinary, biding our time for moments of blissful vibrancy. In a creative lifespan that is so very brief, what is it about time that has such a hold on us? This third self Oliver describes, and which many of us know to be true, must feel the urgency of the moment and scramble where it might lead us. Doesn’t our creative work lead us out of our fragile self into something more eternal? We don’t have to reach mastery to feel this, but we do need to be present with our work and giving the best of ourselves in that moment.

      “The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.” — Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

      We must jealously protect our time, that we may do something with it. To be productive with it, whatever that means to each of us. We only have so much life force in the well, so make it matter.

      “Dost thou love life? Then do not squander Time; for that’s the Stuff Life is made of.”— Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack

      Lately I’ve been accused of giving my time to others who desperately need it. We all need it, of course, for time is all we have. We must always ask ourselves what we give up for the life we say yes to. Would this time be better served in service to our art, or to our loved ones? To our careers or ourselves? These are decisions with consequences. For what will become of us next? Giving isn’t squandering, not when we give it freely. Yet we must give time to the other stuff that calls for our attention.

      There are reasons I write early in the morning. It’s mostly because it’s the only time I can claim as my own. Let them all sleep, as lovely and essential they may be, and leave me to my work. The rest of the day will be yours. Just as soon as I click publish once again. Is this enough to satiate the muse? Let’s hope not. But it’s enough for now.

    • We Do What We Can

      “A second chance—that’s the delusion. There never was to be but one. We work in the dark—we do what we can—we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.” ― Henry James, The Middle Years

      Our life’s work is an accumulation of the things we did today. This we know, as we know we don’t do our best work sometimes and squander some days altogether. We are imperfect beings, wishing it weren’t so but not always trying especially hard to remedy the fact. Still, we persist.

      We wonder at those who create brilliant work until the very end. Poets and songwriters, artists and the occasional world leader, pushing to complete their vision while there’s still time. Will that be us? Will you and I still be creative beings to the end, or will we shift to less majestic dreams, like art class in the senior center? Shouldn’t our latter years, should we arrive there, be more than simply being fully present when the grandchildren arrive? Shouldn’t we offer a spark of wonder and mystery, even to the end?

      But I get ahead of myself. We’re in the productive years now. These are the days of wine and roses, after all. We know deep down which season we’re in, and we have much work to do still.

      They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
      Out of a misty dream
      Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
      Within a dream.
      — Ernest Dowson

      The cadence of our days is set by our systems and routines. Each day we get to create our best work, to do what we can with what we have in us that day. We try to measure up to our previous best, and dare to exceed it. This is a quest for mastery, not of the work, but of ourselves. The work is nothing but breadcrumbs that others might follow.