Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Chaos Hates Simplicity

      The humidifier hasn’t been filled for days and the house plants looked just as thirsty so I finally corrected the water situation today. A dry house isn’t good for people either, but inevitable in winter if you don’t keep up with it. And that’s the thing, I’m not keeping up. Things I might have done routinely in the course of a day are getting put off. I noticed the dishes stacking up next to the sink. Clutter is stacking up in other places too. And it slid sideways the moment I started demolition in the bathroom and laundry room. The washer and dryer are sitting in my son’s room. The cat boxes are in my daughter’s room. Cleaning supplies and shelving sit in the master bedroom. Tools and tile are stacked in the hallway waiting their turn. I feel like a hoarder wading through the house. I need a haircut. Chaos has found us.

      My theory on chaos is that it lurks right behind you, waiting for an opportunity to pounce into your life. Once it arrives it resists leaving. Chaos is a stubborn thing indeed. If the goal in Yin and Yang is to dance along the edge of chaos and order, then my home and its residents are stumbling into chaos. One of the cats, finding the litter boxes moved to another room, chose to make a deposit at his old bank location. The house, and their world, is upside down. No, this won’t do at all.

      The remedy is simple. Make a list in my bullet journal and start drawing an X through each one as I complete the task. Ah, but I’ve slipped on the journal too. The only place that I’ve seen order is in work, which has proven a welcome distraction from the chaos of construction. I’m under some time pressure to get things done with the kids home for a few days during spring break in March. Business trips coming up fast. A new dryer getting delivered and installed soon too. Tick, tick, tick… stop! Now is when you pause, write down everything that needs to get done, and knock things off one at a time. Get things out of the head and on paper. Make order from chaos. Too analog? There’s beauty in simplicity. Chaos hates simplicity. I hate chaos.

      This sauce I’m stirring is a blend of David Allen, Greg McKeown, Admiral William H. McRaven and Ryder Carrol. They all point to simplicity kicking the ass of chaos. Get things out of your head and on a list, prioritize and knock things off one at a time. Making order out of chaos, one step at a time. Eventually the list shrinks and you no longer have appliances in your son’s bedroom. But it does require some sweat equity too. Now seems a good time to wrap this up and grab a paint brush. I’ve got X’s to make, and chaos to evict.

    • Buddy, Can You Spare a Mask?

      I’m currently renovating a bathroom in my house, the second time in a year I’ve tackled a bathroom renovation. I’m either ambitious or a slow learner. But for now let’s call it the pragmatic use of acquired skills and available time. Why pay someone to do what you can do if the task is worthwhile?

      Step one in renovation (after confirming permit requirements) is demolition of the old bathroom. Demolition is the process of taking what used to be in your everyday life out of your life forever, using reciprocating saws, hammers pry bars and a lot of sweat equity. With the right mindset this can be a fun workout, like a reverse jigsaw puzzle with power tools. This is pure bliss when things are going right. But for things to go right you need to take a few precautions along the way. Things like turning off water supplies and circuit breakers for areas that you’re working on. Using drop cloths to protect areas not being demolished. And wear safety equipment.

      And that brings me to the strange way that coronavirus in China disrupted my bathroom renovation in New Hampshire. It seems the world has gone mad, and something as mundane as a dust mask for protecting your lungs from fiberglass dust have disappeared from the shelves of box stores and local hardware stores alike. Construction dust masks don’t even filter out viruses; viruses are too small and mock these dust masks as they fly into your lungs. That’s why they call them “dust” masks. But tell that to the zealous hoarders of all masks, sure that the apocalypse has arrived, snapping up shopping carts full of dust masks not matter what they’re rated for. On second thought, don’t bother, they’re not listening anyway. If you’re buying that many masks you’re uniquely focused on anything but reason.

      The quest ultimately ended successfully even as it delayed my start time. I did find a box of dust masks rated for general construction dust, not optimal but good enough for the task at hand. With a mask and safety glasses affixed to my face I cut the fiberglass bathtub into pieces and removed all the debris to the dumpster bag outside. Having done this before I knew the most efficient process and completed my demolition in time to clean up and go to dinner with friends. As a bonus I had an ice breaker story about the lingering elastic marks on my face and a tale of misguided mask hoarders. Coronavirus surely requires diligence, public awareness and precaution, but not dust masks. Could you leave a few for the rest of us? I mean, this bathroom isn’t renovating itself?

    • The Game

      I play this game of productivity each morning that I’m home, taking habits I’ve looped together and creating progress metrics within them. First I set the kettle filled with cold water, then drink a pint of water while reading. I try to get at least five pages of meaningful reading done before the kettle whistles. Sometimes it’s only three pages, depending on the conspiracy between the depth of reading and the volume of water being heated. But the goal remains five pages, conspiracies be damned. I could max out the font on my Kindle app to even the playing field, but really, who am I cheating but myself?

      Once my coffee is made, I write. My goal is to write 150 words before the coffee cools enough to sip, and then finish this morning’s post before I finish the cup. Sometimes the game is easy, sometimes I fail miserably, but I’m always more productive than I otherwise might have been. Such is the nature of habit loops, pulling us moment by moment in the direction we’ve set for ourselves.

      What’s missing in this morning routine is movement. And I’m well aware of the omission. Burpees created shoulder problems, rowing for me is best done in the afternoon, and long walks aren’t possible in the frenzy of a workday morning. But not all habits need to be lumped into the same loop, and I’ve shifted movement to the late afternoon or early evening, when I need it most. It’s become a defined break between work and personal time. Often I’ll add a game or two of chess here, and read a few more pages. If I haven’t done it already, I’ll also chip away at Duolingo tackling French. This used to be a morning activity but I’d get too restless after reading and writing to lump a session with French in, so I’ve taken to doing it in the evenings, instead of watching television. I’ll combine some reading here after Duolingo. Sometimes television wins the hour but I’ve kept the Duolingo streak alive all year.

      And that brings me to the last game of the day; reading before sleep takes over. Unlike the morning reading session I’m usually tapped out by late evening. Reading in bed instead of checking Twitter or the news is a way to end on a positive note, but I know I’m good for maybe five pages at most before I’m tapped out. The game is to try, and usually I get two or three pages in before I nod off. Game over, but another day ahead of where I was yesterday. That’s a win, isn’t it?

    • Progress Whispers

      Momentum is a funny thing. It doesn’t come from one big day of contribution, but from small, daily effort over time. Like many people I use the Jim Collins analogy from Good to Great of pushing the flywheel when I reference momentum. Here’s his own summary of the flywheel effect:

      “There is no single defining action, no grand program, no one killer innovation, no solitary lucky break, no miracle moment. Rather, the process resembles relentlessly pushing a giant, heavy flywheel, turn upon turn, building momentum until a point of breakthrough, and beyond.” – Jim Collins, The Flywheel Effect

      We’re all pushing at some flywheel, aren’t we? In our careers, our fitness, our relationships with our spouse and families, and really, in all of our pursuits. Put in your 10,000 hours one small act at a time and over time you reach a level of mastery, as Malcolm Gladwell has spotlighted.

      I came across this quote from Jon Acuff that got me thinking back on the flywheel effect. I’d read his book Finish last year, but I wasn’t in a place where it resonated with me. But I uploaded it again to see what I’d highlighted, and this stood out for me:

      “Progress, on the other hand, is quiet. It whispers. Perfectionism screams failure and hides progress.” – Jon Acuff, Finish

      Perfectionism screams… and blocks. Don’t write the first draft because it sucks. But everyone’s first draft sucks. Every NBA player missed countless shots in the driveway before they nailed them in the NBA Finals. Forget perfectionism, look for progress instead. Progress whispers. Did I take a step towards my goal? Yes, great! No? Don’t miss tomorrow. But keep chipping away at it. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

      I’ve written every day for well past a year, and I’m slowly seeing progress. Better writing, easier flow, expanding palette for new ideas, and an ever-increasing portfolio of completed posts. The writing has bled over into the career, pushing me to be more consistent there, and into other areas I’ve written about before. Progress whispers, but when you look back on it you find you’ve got a lot of momentum going on that flywheel. So by all means, don’t stop pushing now.

    • The First Cup Is The Deepest

      Yeah, I know, the lyric is the first cut is the deepest, not cup… but it applies equally well to both. Hear me out. I’d contend that there’s far more meaning, more depth, in the first cup of coffee, tea or alcoholic beverage than there is in any subsequent cup. Let’s use coffee as our example. It’s dark outside as the sun catches up with the early risers. I’ve just brewed my morning coffee, robust dark roast, thank you, and carefully monitor the temperature for that magical first sip. This is the most zen-like moment of the day for coffee consumption, and a moment when my mind is most open to new ideas. This is the magic cuppa, the most clear-headed and open my mind will be all day, undistracted by the clutter of life. This is where the deep thoughts happen.

      This morning I’m re-assessing my daily routine after the magic hour. The first hour of the day is by far the most productive, and I push to do everything that must be done before the muse fades into the ambient noise of life. For me that means writing, reading, and a quick survey of the bullet journal tasks I need to accomplish that day. That “magic hour” tends to be more like 90 minutes, and then I’m feeling the restlessness build with the volume of the ambient noise around me.

      The coffee cup is empty, the darkness of the morning has given way to light, and any moment now the night owl’s alarm clock will chirp upstairs. It’s time to shift gears to that first bullet in the journal, and the game of putting an X through as many as possible before the day ends. The ambient noise kicks in: What’s the weather today? Who won the Iowa Caucus? Why did the Red Sox trade one of the best players in baseball? Do I even care about the Red Sox anymore after the off-season they’ve had? And so on. Noise.

      I consider another cup of coffee, but I know it won’t be the same. Better to get moving, literally and figuratively, and get into the flow of the work day. Such is the daily battle. I feel the crush of things to do, sigh and get on with it. I wish that first cup would last all day.

    • Meeting Luck

      Last night I won $225 in a Super Bowl office pool I didn’t participate in, from an office I don’t work in, and had little knowledge of before I was told I’d won. My wife picked a random square at her job, wrote my name on it and the score aligned with that random number. That’s random luck for you.

      Saturday I watched my son’s basketball team pull out a win as they broke the press in the final minutes and hit clutch free throws as time ran out for their opponent. The game could have gone either way, but key individual matchups and years of practicing how to break the press (get to the ball!) and shooting free throws made all the difference when the game mattered most. That’s making your own luck for you.

      It’s now Monday morning, the sky is slowly brightening, and I‘m well into the day already. I have a morning routine that, like practicing free throws, becomes muscle memory. If luck is random, it’s also fickle. I’ve never won millions of dollars in the lottery, but I know good luck when I see it. Like breaking the press, you’ve got to get up and meet it.

    • Measuring Out Life in Coffee Spoons

      “Do I dare
      Disturb the universe?
      In a minute there is time
      For decisions and revisions which a
      minute will reverse.

      For I have known them all already,
      known them all:—
      Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
      I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
      I know the voices dying with a dying fall
      Beneath the music from a farther room.
      So how should I presume?” – T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

      I wonder if I would have enjoyed the company of T.S. Eliot.  I’m fairly sure I’d have hit it off with Mary Oliver, and with Robert Frost, but I don’t always click with old T.S.  But this poem, one of his most famous, offers that bold question; Do I dare disturb the universe?  and I smile, for I too feel like I’ve measured out my life with coffee spoons. Maybe there’s more to T.S. than I originally thought. The better question would be whether he’d enjoy my company? That has to be earned too: Want to be in the conversation? Have something to say.

      To write publicly is to answer the call.  Whether the universe chooses to pay attention or not is another story, but in chipping away at it one small measure at a time, we see more, and put more out there to be seen, we get better. Roosevelt’s man in the arena comes to mind. Be on the field doing it. Nothing else matters. Is there futility in the work? Perhaps, but the work offers its own path in the universe. I write knowing there’s so much more to it than this. This is showing up, it’s not poking the bear and disturbing the universe. Provocation requires more skin in the game. Blood and sweat mixing in the dirt. There’s more to do.

    • Excellence Is The Next Five Minutes

      “Excellence is the next five minutes or nothing at all. It’s the quality of your next five-minute conversation. It’s the quality of, yes, your next email. Forget the long term. Make the next five minutes rock!” – Tom Peters

      “It is a simple two-step process: Decide the type of person you want to be. Prove it to yourself with small wins.” – James Clear

      “The work is quite feasible, and is the only thing in our power. . . . Let go of the past. We must only begin. Believe me and you will see.” – Epictetus

      It’s easy to get bogged down in strategy and planning. It’s a form of busywork that makes you feel productive even when you aren’t really moving forward. I’ve struggled with this over the years, and it’s fair to say I still haven’t mastered time. Then again, who ever does? But focusing on the action needed right now, with an eye towards maintaining our overall course, makes a lot of sense.

      Excellence is the next five minutes or nothing at all. The point isn’t to master time, just to win the next five minutes. What we do now matters more than what we do tomorrow. Setting a course is important; we all need to know where the we’re going or what’s the point? But right behind that is meaningful action. The Tom Peters quote is a favorite call to action because it reminds us of the urgency of now. Peters’ quote pairs well with James Clear’s work, and both quotes would be very familiar to stoics like Epictetus. Ultimately we all build off the legacy of those who came before, and hope to leave something meaningful for those who come after.

      I’m posting late today, watching the sun dropping in the west while I write instead of feeling it rise behind me as the morning progresses. I wanted to sit on this post awhile, feeling there’s more to say. There’s always more you can say, and always more to improve upon, isn’t there? But you also need to ship when it’s time to ship, a necessary call to action that keeps us from sitting on our work. And so it is that I’ve checked a few boxes today knowing I could’ve done more but generally happy with what I’ve done with the time I’ve been given today. Let’s call that a small win (and, always, work to go a step further if I’m blessed with the gift of tomorrow).

    • What Can You Do In 100 Days?

      I was scanning the shelves at a bookstore a couple of weeks ago and saw a book called The 100 Day Goal Journal, subtitled “Accomplish What Matters To You”. And I thought, well, what would I try to accomplish in 100 days anyway? I’m currently powering along habit stacking and generally pleased with the incremental results. But I appreciate the concept of focusing intensely on a specific goal to achieve it over time. It falls in line with the Warren Buffett’s 5/25 Rule in only focusing on the top five and forgetting the rest until you’ve accomplished each of the five.

      I’ve listened to John Lee Dumas’ podcast… It’s not my thing; too cheerleader or drive time radio DJ for me. I’m sure there’s a powerful message in that presentation, I’m just not reaching across the chasm of peppy delivery to embrace it. So buying the book seemed outside my zone. I’m chipping away at plenty of goals already, and really, how do you prioritize one over the others? Which is exactly why I bought it: to focus intensely on the one. And what is the one anyway? Write the novel? Lose weight? Master the French language? All personal goals for sure, but I’m already chipping away at those. I needed something that was currently outside my habit loop but important to me. My career. In this case a work goal of bringing the region to quota by the end of Q2. If you subtracted the weekends 100 work days gets you to June, so it falls in line with an audacious goal. If I fall short the region will be better for the intense focus on it, but why hedge bets?

      I postponed the start of audacious while I beat back influenza. Shift the start line and you shift the finish line, but it’s still well before the end of June. And so it began yesterday as soon as I realized I could stand up for more than two hours without curling into the fetal position coughing and shivering. I’ve been sequestered in the home office while I climb back to normalcy, but a quick check tells me I’m ready. Excuses put aside like warm blankets early in the morning. You’re ready? Lovely. So get going already! Go!

    • Sick Day

      My collection of streaks was disrupted by the flu yesterday. I managed to get the writing in, and the Duolingo French lesson, and the reading too, but the 10,000 steps petered out at the halfway mark, and work goals mostly pushed into today. I’ve lost six pounds in an involuntary fast, and the expectations for today have been modified by how long it took to drag myself out of bed. Such is a bout with the flu. It changes your priorities pretty quickly.

      We take our health for granted. I felt great and accomplished X the last couple of months in a row, so why shouldn’t I expect the same today? I have people reading this who are chuckling that the guy who never gets sick is conceding to the flu. So be it, the virus has asserted itself, now it’s time for my body to push back. I’ll try to check each box today anyway, beginning with this one.