Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Every Setting Sun

      “Let every dawn of morning be to you as the beginning of life, and every setting sun be to you as its close.” – John Ruskin, The Two Paths

      You see the difference in the days now. September brings that perceptible tilt of the earth, shrinking daylight hours and with it a persistent tightening up of that time between sunrise and sunset. Soon the trees will react and the world will turn a kaleidoscope of colors. In the northern hemisphere we’ve turned the corner from the laziness of summer and you can feel the quiet insistence of the harvest season upon us.

      There’s work to do, meaningful work, and it must begin in earnest while there’s time. It’s funny how September does that. Deeply engrained in our souls, this feeling of bringing all your work to a satisfactory conclusion. A harvest. Like the setting sun you can feel when one chapter is ending, with a bold suggestion that something new might begin. But we’re fools to focus on that which isn’t promised to us.

      Sunsets are lovely, but you earn the sunrise. And when you greet the day your thoughts turn naturally to what you might do with it. Life is best lived in the urgency between sunrise and sunset. When the sun sets this evening, what will we have harvested in these brief hours? For the days grow shorter with every setting sun.

    • Leaping Forward

      Inevitably around the early days of September I start thinking about the end of the year, of the beginning of a new year, and of the things I said I’d do that I haven’t done. Sure, sometimes I’ll linger on the things I did do, but I don’t find it all that productive to pat myself on the back for past accomplishments. There’s nothing wrong with being happy with where you are, but if that’s your frame of mind you generally aren’t in a hurry to turn it upside down for something else. Growth lies in discomfort, and you can’t be satisfied with where you are if you hope to do more in your time.

      To leap forward requires vacating the spot you currently reside in. New habits, new conversations, new attitudes about what is possible and what you’ll let yourself get away with. Leaps are exciting and a little intimidating. Sometimes really, really intimidating. So most people settle for baby steps instead. Less risky, maybe, or maybe it’s a way to trick yourself into thinking you’re making progress without the discomfort of having both feet in the air at the same time, not entirely certain where you might land.

      This isn’t a leap year, not if you use the calendar to tell you where you are in life anyway. But leaping is an attitude, not a story we all tell ourselves about what day it is. Every year can be a leap year if you want it to be. Leaping doesn’t require burning the boats, but it does require commitment. You can’t very well change your mind after you launch yourself. So decide the direction you want to go in and how far to leap (what you might want to become) and launch yourself that way with resolve.

      It’s a thrill when you wind up and go for it. Doesn’t this short life deserve that kind of thrill? Decide what to be and go be it. I hope to see you there.

    • Patterns of Action

      “There are cues and subtle aspects you can only pick up through a person-to-person interaction—such as a way of doing things that has evolved through much experience. These patterns of action are hard to put into words, and can only be absorbed through much personal exposure.” – Robert Greene, Mastery

      If we were to agree that activity is a key performance indicator, then you might learn a lot about someone’s direction from their level of activity. But as anyone who’s worked in an office for any amount of time knows, you can easily skew the numbers with busywork. We all know people who are masters of the metrics game. But in the end all that matters is results.

      Key Performance Indicators (KPI’s) are the metrics identified as important indicators towards the progression and eventual completion of an objective. If that sounds pretty dry, well, welcome to the world of corporate metrics. Put another way, it’s reading the tea leaves to see what the patterns are. Patterns of action indicate our direction because they’ve indicated the direction others have taken before us. What works for you should work for me, the thought process goes. Of course, everyone and every situation is different. The art of leadership (or self-leadership) is in seeing what to focus on.

      When you want to change something about yourself, what do you do first? We can stay very busy messing about with planning and preparation. There are people who build entire careers around each. I have a workout plan that will have me winning the next Olympics in rowing, should I ever follow through on it. I won’t follow through on it.

      And that’s the key point. Life is about execution and following through on what you say you’re going to do. There are clear patterns of action that get you there, one step at a time, if you’ll choose to take them. Measuring activity isn’t the point, the point is to manage patterns of productive activity that are generally agreed upon to take us from where we are to where we want to be and turn them into results. Take action, note the results, and take action again. Repeat.

      That feeling of “stuck” we get when we aren’t seeing progress is an indicator that we’re mired in busywork but not meaningful patterns of action. We must either pivot to other goals or face the truth that we aren’t working on the things that really matter. Our patterns of action are all wrong. See the truth for what it is, and then do something about it.

    • Prepping the Night Before

      On the fence about whether to hike a pair of 4000 footers, I decided to just start getting my pack ready, just in case. When the backpack was ready, the boots and hiking clothes laid out, it became a foregone conclusion that I’d actually get up and go at 4:30 AM. But it all started with packing that backpack.

      There’s nothing revolutionary about putting your workout clothes out, or getting your bag packed for an early flight. The work you put in the night before sets the tone for the morning. You don’t forget important things, you aren’t scrambling to find things that you swore were right where you left them the last time you hiked. But mostly, you do what you said you were going to do. Waking up to the alarm with everything laid out eliminates excuses, and pokes you with some positive pressure: I got everything ready, the least I could do is get my ass out of bed and get to it.

      So when you’re on the fence, or when it really matters that you follow through, prep the night before. It’ll make all the difference the next morning. Just remember to set the alarm!

    • By These Hands

      The gobs of wet leaves and pine straw pulled with bare hands from the gutter weren’t posted on YouTube for the world to see. Nor were the pulled fence posts as they were chipped free of old concrete footings. The world will never wonder at the labor put into such things by these hands. My labor remains undocumented.

      The same fingers that write these jumbles of words once laid brick on a curving walkway only to pull it up two decades later to reset a stubborn gate heaved by frost and refusing to close. This is the price of time in one place, you find yourself undoing what you’ve done before over and over again. It’s the labor of living, and like generations before mine the work goes largely unnoticed by most. Like an Offensive Lineman, you understand that if your work is noticed it wasn’t done correctly. But you know when it’s done well and when it isn’t.

      Labor is done for profit, and it reveals itself in moments. Each time I open the gate without having to kick the bottom corner, I’ll celebrate the sweat and strain of a Sunday in August when the work was done. Each time it rains I’ll celebrate the sound of water running through the downspout and not up and over the top of the gutter. These observations aren’t celebrated in the same way as seeing the Grand Canyon or St. Basil’s Cathedral or the Tower of London for the first time, because they’re mundane. But when you’ve fixed something that needed fixing and see it work, none of those other places matter a lick in that particular moment.

      I know plenty of people who hire others to do their labor for them. I understand this particular inclination, for paying others buys you time for yourself. Time spent on yard work is time not spent on a mountain summit or a beach on these briefest of days we call summer. But I know deep down that the work done by these hands reveals something in myself that I’d never find if I left the work to others.

      There are lessons in the labor, residing deep inside of me, that others may not see. Lessons that open up for you like a swinging gate free of obstruction. Flow through you like water through a downspout. When you do the work, even when it might all be undone once again someday, you understand that our brief, fleeting lives only have meaning in these mundane contributions we make. Even if it’s never seen on YouTube.

    • Do Uncomfortable Things

      “Being busy is most often used as a guise for avoiding the few critically important but uncomfortable actions.” – Tim Ferriss

      It’s easier than ever to master distraction. There are so many ways to push aside the importance of a specific task for the urgent du jour that pops up as a notification or to the top of your inbox. What is life but the prioritization of important things over all the rest? And yet we so easily cave to distraction.

      Important things fall by the wayside because they’re often uncomfortable. Or perceived to be. Certainly more uncomfortable than scurrying about in the familiar buzz of tasks and quick minutes. There were days when I’d look up, realize the time and see that I’d gotten none of the meaningful things I’d wanted to do completed. For those of us who want to feel accomplishment at the end of a long day, this can be a moment of painful self-reckoning.

      So why do we succumb over and over to the relative ease of distraction and the unimportant? Because it feels like no big thing at that moment, because we put the important task in a box of “uncomfortable”. Because busywork feels like getting things done, but easier than the task we ought to be doing. Because, because, because…

      “The biggest generator of long term results is learning to do things when you don’t feel like doing them. Discipline is more reliable than motivation.” -Shane Parrish

      Uncomfortable has its own pleasures, just not always in the moment. Making a long term investment in ourselves through discipline seems more difficult in the moment, but deferred important tasks only amplify the longer you defer them. Pay me now or pay me later.

      Ultimately, the answer is to know what’s important for the long term and to have the discipline to stick to the tasks that matter in getting you there. Which requires embracing the suck and doing the uncomfortable important things until you forget that it was ever all that uncomfortable to begin with. And that infers that you have a vision for the future you and a clear map for how you’ll get there. The rest is disciplined action. Simple, right?

    • Marching Boldly Down the Path of Better

      There’s a battle happening in the background within each of us. A battle of habits if you will, each with a stake in your game, each working to override the other and dominate the conversation. And the stakes are high.

      We all have bad habits. Habits of consumption that lead us astray. Snacking too much. Relying on relationships for positive feedback instead of diving deep into our own soul. Bing watching and media scrolling and gossiping about so-and-so. Habits of consumption that leave us overweight and bloated on garbage.

      Good god, the garbage! Garbage of empty calories that soften and marinate us, transforming lithe into listlessness. Garbage of bitter political or conspiracy theories or social commentary that calcifies brain cells and transforms good people into trolls. Garbage of money chasing and comparing your stuff to the stuff others have. If you are what you eat what the hell are we doing to ourselves?

      Thankfully, we also have good habits. Habits of productivity that move us a step forward in our lives, marching boldly down the path of better. Eating in moderation and pulling the right dietary levers. Exercise and sweat equity and earning that next thing you put in your mouth.

      Habits that lead us towards something bigger than ourselves. Community building and nest egg accumulating and corporate ladder climbing. Habits of exploration and understanding. Habits of creation; of projects and writing and events and enterprise. Putting it and yourself out there in and for the world. For exploration is seeking more, and creation is contribution.

      So what do you lean into? What dominates the conversation in your own life? Those habits of consumption are loud talkers and want to take over your life. Habits of productivity work on you in subtle ways, pointing towards a better tomorrow with work today. That deferral sometimes makes all the difference, swaying us to the dark side of just this once.

      The trick is knowing which path you’re on. Where are you going anyway? Immediate gratification is just a little nibble or scroll away. But away from what? We’re all moving towards something, which naturally means we’re also moving away from something. What will it be for you and me? Let’s make it meaningful. March boldly down the path of better and see where it takes you.

    • Adding Extra to Ordinary

      “A master is in control. A master has a system. A master turns the ordinary into the sacred.”
      – Ryan Holiday

      “The primary math of the real world is one and one equals two. The layman (as, often, do I) swings that every day. He goes to the job, does his work, pays his bills and comes home. One plus one equals two. It keeps the world spinning. But artists, musicians, con men, poets, mystics and such are paid to turn that math on its head, to rub two sticks together and bring forth fire. Everybody performs this alchemy somewhere in their life, but it’s hard to hold on to and easy to forget. People don’t come to rock shows to learn something. They come to be reminded of something they already know and feel deep down in their gut. That when the world is at its best, when we are at our best, when life feels fullest, one and one equals three. It’s the essential equation of love, art, rock ’n’ roll and rock ’n’ roll bands. It’s the reason the universe will never be fully comprehensible, love will continue to be ecstatic, confounding, and true rock ’n’ roll will never die.” – Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run

      I’m beginning to understand the art of weaving magic. I am by no means a master, but each turn in the blog, each tangle with words in other work I’m developing, leads me closer to the sacred. The blog is my apprenticeship, never fully realized because I ship the work daily whether the magic is sprinkled on yet or not. This is a turn of the ordinary, and a march towards something more.

      Routines infer ordinary. We have our habits and generally stick with them, and we feel out of sorts when the routine is broken by happenstance or travel. But routines are where you find the magic, hidden deeply in layers of repetition and persistence. You don’t pull magic out of your ass, you work for it.

      You know it when you see it. Moments crackle with excitement. And one plus one does, for a brief moment, equal three. The greatest artists and performers regularly dance with the extraordinary. But hidden from that brilliant moment of now are the buried hours of falling flat, picking yourself up and trying something else then. You don’t add extra to ordinary without sacrifice.

      I’m well aware of where I am with my own work, and I also know where I’m going. Towards the sacred. Towards three. Towards the incomprehensible and magic and the extraordinary. I hope someday to share that with you.

    • Links in a Chain

      The latest outdoor workout was renting a chainsaw and cutting up oak and maple tree logs into smaller bits that I will eventually split on some cold winter day. Or perhaps it will be someone else doing the splitting and enjoying the fruits of this labor. Yesterday I was just a link in the chain between tree and fire.

      The thing is, I don’t particularly care if I’m the one burning the wood. I’ll savor it should it be me, but the whole point was to embrace the task of taking a pile of logs and transforming them into a neat pile of firewood. To complete the task at hand was all that mattered. Chopping up firewood on a warm day is a workout, has an element of danger, and requires focused concentration on the elements of the work that can badly injure you. Done well, it’s a joyful expression of being alive.

      “Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.” – Zen Kōan

      I finished the task and see the next one in line, awaiting my applied labor. And all of this is both satisfying and futile. The projects are endless, the output of money is constant, and the rewards are never guaranteed. But we do what we must to keep things going.

      The noise of the chainsaw doesn’t fully drown out the call of the road, the call of the mountains, or the call of the ocean. I’m fully aware of what I trade off in experience for this one. But I’m at peace with my choices. The work must be done. And what are we but links in a chain?

    • Worthy of Good

      “Isn’t it more appropriate for us humans to endure and be strong? We understand, after all, that we suffer for the sake of something good, either to help our friends, to aid our city, to fight on behalf of women or children, or for the most important and weighty reason of all, to be good and just and self-controlled. No one achieves this without pain. And so I conclude that because we humans acquire all good things by pain, the person who is himself unwilling to endure pain all but condemns himself to being worthy of nothing good.” – Musonius Rufus

      Looking back on the last year I wonder at the person I was a year ago, optimistic yet unsure about the pandemic. Working from home all the time was new; different and unfamiliar. A year later, the work is once again taking over. But we’re different, aren’t we? And so is the nature of the work.

      Ultimately, we either do the work or become masters at hiding from it. In general, and over time, this becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy for us. Do the work that matters, harden the softness that threatens your effectiveness and eventually good things will come your way.

      The days fly by when you’re deep in productive and rewarding work. Over the last year there were plenty of days that felt both unproductive and unrewarding. Sometimes you feel that things will never get back to normal. But the rewards are there for those who push through the pain and frustration and loss. Which makes me wonder, have I done enough to be worthy of those rewards? Are we doing enough now?

      If we know we can do more, shouldn’t we?