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Posts tagged ‘intention’

How to Do One Thing at a Time

The piece below originally appeared in this month’s Creative Times newsletter.

How to Do One Thing at a TimeIn our do-it-all-now culture, multitasking is considered a skill. Just look at a few help wanted ads online — most job descriptions call for candidates who are able to “multitask.”

But we know from research that multitasking is actually unnatural and inefficient. “Do two or more things simultaneously, and you’ll do none at full capacity.”

Multitasking is the antithesis of the concept of “flow” or “being in the zone,” as identified by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. We want flow. It’s an essential part of creativity. Can you be creative when you’re unfocused and distracted? Sure. But the output probably won’t be as great — or feel as good — as what you get when you experience flow.

While it may be a lot to expect to enter flow on a daily basis, it’s not too much to develop work habits that support doing one thing at a time. I recently realized that my own habits had reached new depths of multitasking frenzy. The ugly truth looked something like this:

I’m in the middle of a client project and reflexively check my e-mail. A new action item comes in — something that will only take a couple of minutes to take care of. So I do that quick thing, and in the process remember that I’ve forgotten to order more paper towels. So I go to amazon to order paper towels and realize that I need to order a few other things too. I try to remember what those things are while going to the kitchen to make a fresh cup of tea. I unload the dishwasher while waiting for the kettle to boil. Back at my desk, finishing the amazon order, I get a text from one of my sons asking for a ride home from the train station later. I look at my schedule and realize that I have to make an ATM deposit, which I can do on the way to the train station. I take a few minutes to put together my deposit, which requires me to open my bookkeeping application and make a few entries. I glance at my to-do list and realize that I’m overdue for posting an update to a client’s facebook account. I go to facebook to make the update, but inevitably see my personal notifications at the same time. I get sucked into the feed. I click through to external pages. When a page is slow to load, I open another browser window and read news headlines or take a turn in Words With Friends. I realize it’s getting late and I really need to finish the client project I started with. I work on that for a a short burst before reflexively checking my e-mail again and the whole cycle repeats in some variation.

A pathetic spin on If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Can you relate?

At the end of the day, I’d have the unpleasant feeling of having been busy for hours without having made much measurable progress — and without having done anything to the best of my ability. That doesn’t work well, and doesn’t feel good.

How had I gone so awry? How could doing just one thing at a time possibly be so complicated? I knew it had something to do with electronic life — and the real-time availability and demands that come with it. I realized that I needed some training wheels. More than training wheels, I needed some duct tape and a hammer. I had to start doing one thing at a time, doing each task until a) it was completed or b) for external or predetermined reasons I had to stop. Duh. But for some reason, I couldn’t get myself to stick to this simple framework.

Enter the time log, which has — literally — transformed my life. We know that dieters who write down everything they eat lose more weight than those who don’t. There’s something about having to fess up — even if just to yourself — that encourages you to stick with your intentions. Here’s what I started doing.

In the “notes” side of my two-page per day planner (although you could use anything — including a sheet of paper) I write down the time and what task I’m starting. When the moment comes that I need/want to do something else, I write down the time and what I’m about to do. I can do anything I want, but I can only do the one thing I last wrote down. If I’m going to change tasks, I have to write it down first.

It’s that simple. Write down the time and what you’re about to do. Then do that one thing, and only that thing, until you need/want to do something else. Then write that thing down. Repeat. If something unexpected comes up and you need to deal with it, write it down. That’s now your one “thing.”

Here’s an excerpt from my log for Friday, February 1, 2013:

10:00 work on Coaching Circle planner
11:31 Client coaching call
12:05 work on Coaching Circle planner
12:26 e-mail Coaching Circle planner to recipients
12:35 check facebook
12:38 check e-mail/respond client messages
12:40 lunch and playtime with Liam
2:27 help Emma with online project
2:57 check e-mail/respond client messages
3:10 draft blog post
3:50 write e-mail to EB
3:55 send messages to coaching clients
4:20 writing practice
5:15 depart for Matthew pickup

You get the idea. The thing is, if I hadn’t been keeping this log, I wouldn’t have stuck with that 90-minute focused work block at 10:00, and I wouldn’t have refrained from checking e-mail during my playtime with Liam. Keeping this log continually reminds me of my commitment to doing just one thing at a time, and to doing it as well as I can. For larger projects, I decide ahead of time that I’m going to spend 60 or 90 minutes on that project. Then, if necessary, I stop and move on to the other things that have to get taken care of.

Want to try it? I encourage you to use paper for your time log, rather than an electronic device. Paper is immediate — and unplugged. It isn’t full of distractions like your phone and computer. And I think there’s something about having a log in your own handwriting that keeps it all “real.”

Do yourself a big favor and close your e-mail client and all social media when you’re not actually “doing” those things. Sticking to your time log is easier without those added temptations.

It also helps to spend some time in the morning outlining what you need and want to get done that day, so that as you finish one thing, you don’t get lost trying to decide on the next. Assign time estimates to each task on your list beforehand. And if you like to take a lot of breaks, by all means, take them! Just write down what you’re doing. Then you don’t run the risk of kidding yourself when your 20-minute break turns into a 2-hour social media binge.

The only downside to the log is that now I feel lost without it. I’ve started using it from the moment I get up in the morning. It helps me avoid OD’ing on Words With Friends when I really want to be doing my Morning Pages.

If you’re motivated to try this, or have another plan for reducing your busy-ness, please share it below!

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Tele-Call: Living in the Moment while Working Toward the Future

I’d love for you to join me for Transformational Tuesday, a free tele-call hosted by the Creativity Coaching Association on Tuesday, May 8 at 11:00 am eastern.

This live call is a conversation between Bev Down, CEO of the Creativity Coaching Association, and me, with Q&A from the audience (you, I hope!) on a topic I’ve been thinking about a lot lately: Living in the moment while working toward the future. Here’s the gist:

Goals are an essential part of turning dreams into reality. In order to avoid the pitfall of “Aim at nothing, and you’ll hit it every time,” we’re advised to get clear on what we want and visualize the ideal outcome. SMART goals (Specific, Measureable, Attainable, Relevant, and Time-Based) help us develop our passions and accomplish what feels important. But we also know that living in the moment — being present and surrendering to right now — is key to reducing stress and finding peace. Sometimes our plans for reaching our goals seem incompatible with what shows up in the present. How do we navigate this apparent conflict?

While I’m preparing my thoughts for this tele-call, I’d love to hear about your experience navigating this issue. Do you feel caught between wanting to be where you are — and wanting to arrive at a future point? As a creative mother, you’re continually faced with putting your own goals on hold in the name of taking care of someone else. Are you able to stay in the moment and go with the flow even when obstacles seem to pile up, and the distance between you and your goal seems to widen? Whether this is something you grapple with or something you don’t, I’d love to work your experience into my program. Please comment on this blog post to share your perspective in advance.

May 8, 2012 @ 11:00 AM, Eastern Time
Dial-in Number: 1-218-936-4141
Participant Access Code: 8673879#

I hope to “see” you there!

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Joyelle: Light My Fire


Ten years ago I created a vision statement for my life: Beacon of light.
I want to be a beacon of light, inspiring others, shining a divine presence that uplifts others. But almost immediately I came up against my biggest problem: how do you shine your light when it goes out? How can I inspire others when I am not myself inspired?

I would start out inspired, fueled with passion about a project. But inevitably, I would end up in a vicious cycle of over-extension and increasingly long periods of burnout, which only ended with the birth of my son. Finally, I had a reason to stop doing. Finally I could let go of the deep unending void that pushed me to do more. Or at least that’s what I thought. But old habits die hard. They creep back in the side door when you aren’t looking, and slowly reclaim their lost territory.

“Come on baby, light my fire,” Jim Morrison sang. But as artists and mothers, we cannot rely on someone else to come by and light our fire when the flames go out. It takes constant tending, loving attention, and most of all, a belief in our own self worth. As women, from a young age we are encouraged to place the needs of others before our own. But this is a road to disaster. This is the road to waking up one day and wondering who the hell you are and what happened to your life.

Learning how to light your own fire is not a selfish luxury, it is the most selfless thing you can do, and it could quite possibly save your life. Because if you are not living your passion, you are not yourself. You are just a hollow shell living out someone else’s life.

Deciding on your vision for your life is the beginning. But deciding on how you will live that vision is crucial. What I have learned for myself is that I need to guard my energy zealously. The phrase “no” needs to pass my lips on a regular basis. When I feel the need to give more, I need to stop and ask myself if this is really what I should be focusing on right now. I went through the burnout cycle so many times, and each time it took longer and longer for me to come back. I missed out on so much of my life, so many opportunities to live my vision, because I couldn’t listen to my own voice. I looked always to the future, thinking that if I worked hard, one day I would be happy.

I have heard the phrase “Life is a journey, not a destination” so many times, but I never really got it before. Now I am starting to understand. Every day I wake up to a new challenge. If I want to be a beacon of light, I need to start by lighting my own fire. I need to pay attention when the quiet voice inside me says “slow down.” I need to let go of limiting thinking that says I need to do it now or it will never happen. I need to believe first in myself, and then in the abundance of the universe.

But most of all, I need to know the difference between hard work and struggle. Hard work is tiring, but not depleting. Struggle is a sign that I am not in alignment with my purpose.

Slowly, I am learning. Learning to listen. Learning to tune in to what is important and tune out what is not. Every day is a new opportunity to live my life with intention, honoring my vision and lighting my own path.

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Joyelle Brandt Music: www.myspace.com/joyellebrandt
Joyelle’s blog: www.anartfulendeavor.com

Mary: Portals of Discovery

Nobody’s perfect, and I’m no exception.

Still, I hope, in my vain, rose-colored-glasses kind of way, to step up and be as good a person as I can be. Sometimes it’s easy.

Sometimes it’s a little tricky.

I think of all the things I could be doing as a mother, for example. And all the endless possible reactions I might have to things my children do, things that I might possibly be letting go, blurring out, things that happen right in front of me. Jack, for example, making his sister a flower out of a pipe cleaner, a button, and some felt letters. Adding a small piece of paper for the card, and drawing a kitty on it. And, what do I say?

“It’s too early in the morning for this!” “Can’t you do this later?” “Make sure you clean up that mess.” And so on.

Meanwhile, I’m completely neglecting the obvious. Which is, my boy is the sweetest on earth for making this small gift for his sister — who was sad because at a festival we went to yesterday, he got a sword and she didn’t get anything. He got right up and made her this thing. This gift from the center of his heart. And all his Mum could say is, “Not now! Clean it up! It’s too early!” (Insert frownie face here).

Now, I know that I might be somewhat harsh on myself, but there are times at the end of the day, when I look back and see what might have been.

Mommy, will you read to me?

Mommy, look! Look at what I made!

Mommy, will help me with this puzzle?

Mommy, will you sing with me?”

Mommy, I’m going to make you some basil eggplant soup!

Mommy, look at me!

Mommy, look at me!

Mommy, look!

Look!

“Mm hm.”

“That’s nice.”

“Good.”

“Not now, I’m really busy.”

“Can’t it wait until later?”

In the meantime, these moments, these precious little segments that make up life, are passing me by quicker than I can spin around. Maybe I’m distracted. Maybe I’m preoccupied. Maybe I’m just plain misguided.

Because, really, how important are the dishes? Who cares if the bathroom doesn’t get cleaned until later this afternoon? And, do I really need to get the query letter out this morning? (Oh, yes. Yes, that, too. And, actually — I do).

In the end, I suppose we all need to forgive ourselves for the imperfection. Without embracing our mistakes and foibles, stumbles and slips, we would never learn about life at all, and perhaps go through our days thinking all is peachy keen and rosy. Our outlook on ourselves would be, at best, imprudent. At worst, perilous.

I need my mistakes, need to cozy up to them on the couch and talk, need to put my head on their shoulder, my arms around their neck, and give them a squeeze. After all, my mistakes are my allies in disguise. They guide me, and help me get one step closer to that state of enlightenment, which is achieved by my acknowledgment, acceptance, and my letting go of that which has been put upon me by something external — something immaterial.

When I let go, I can jump right into the mud puddle that is true life and nature, and splosh around and get really dirty with the spirit and exhilaration of a child. I can be re-introduced to myself, and then shyly take my own hand, leading myself to something better — to a better person, a better me — the me that is already there, the me that can come out at any time. The very pinnacle of my potential. (Try saying that five times fast).

Yes, I’ll make mistakes again. Quite possibly the same ones I’ve made before, actually. But if I’m careful, if I keep my eyes open, someday I can turn it around and reach a new place in my life, where I catch a glimpse of love and righteousness before it gets squashed down by some dadblasted little mistake. Where the ripple in the water outshines the grossly populated highway. Where a little felt flower never goes unnoticed.

Cross-posted from Ophelia Rising.