Where There's A Will . . .

I started out the new year with some of the most stereotypical reading material ever. In the early days of January, I churned through Kelly McGonigal's The Willpower Instinct, learning all the mind games we play on ourselves and how we frequently derail our best intentions. In the book, McGonigal encourages the reader to take on a willpower challenge to test out the concepts and ideas she introduces about the science and psychology of willpower.

We all have behaviors and habits we wish we didn't and thinking of a willpower challenge is less than challenging for most of us. For me, my default willpower challenge has always been procrastination. I frequently find myself scrolling through Facebook and Pinterest when I'm meant to be doing something else. So inspired by McGonigal's writings and since, it was a new year and all, I made the resolution to stop procrastinating so much. (Oh stop laughing you.) I also wanted to consistently get up at a time I deemed "a decent hour" on workdays.

And here we are, nearly at the end of the first month of 2013, at a time when the vast majority of New Year's resolutions have already been broken. And I'm proud to say that I'm still hard at work on my willpower challenges.

The getting up at a decent hour (which I declare is 7 . . . working from home is rough ;) actually turned out to be a cinch. When I realized the weather station that sits on shelving units around the corner from our bedroom door has an alarm, I simply started setting the alarm each night. When it goes off in the morning, I'm forced out of bed to turn off the alarm. And because I really don't care for the groggy sprint out the bedroom door to the buzzing alarm, I tend to wake up a couple minutes ahead of the alarm. Best of all, because I know I'm getting up at the same time each morning, I've started going to bed at a more consistent time too.  

But my procrastination willpower challenge is a whole 'nother beast. By being mindful of my habits and tendencies, I realized last week that I don't actually have a procrastination problem. Nowadays, I actually do get the vast majority of the things I'll say I'll do done. (Chalk up that one to growing older.)

What I lack is focus. (Oh look . . . shiny!)

I've always felt like I have a procrastination problem because I never manage to finish everything I think I should get done, even if I am finishing what I have to get done. 

So what's getting in between me and accomplishment? Oh, I don't know . . . maybe my penchant for having a gazillion windows open both on my desktop and in Firefox, which I flip between absentmindedly all the while I'm convincing myself that I'm doing something useful like writing a blog post or researching an article? Maybe the fact that I respond like one of Pavlov's dogs whenever I hear the "new email" chime?  

So as we move into February, I'm retuning my willpower challenge a bit. It turns out my procrastination problem can fix itself if I learn to tune out distractions and focus solely on each individual task I lay out before me.

In her series on handmade businesses back in October, Gussy Sews suggested that you only check twice a day. At the time, I found the idea horrifying. But I need to check my email all day, I thought. I need to respond to some emails asap. But really, whether I respond to an email within three minutes or three hours usually makes little to no difference.

My email doesn't need to be churning around in the background. In fact, I think this is a habit I picked up during my temp days as an administrative assistant. I often found myself with very little to fill my workdays. Having Outlook open at all times on my desktop gave me an allusion of purpose, even if, as a temp worker,  the only emails I got a regular basis were approvals of the week before's timecard.(Habits can be so silly when you get to the root of them.)

I'll be limiting my email checking in the coming weeks and I'll also be trying to cut back on my mindless internet surfing and we'll see how it goes.

The thing is, you never conquer your willpower habit. Sure, it might become an ingrained habit, but in truth, every single morning we are starting our willpower challenges all over again. Every day we have a choice to live up to the expectations we've set for ourselves to meet our long term goals, or we can choose the easier route with faster rewards. It's not easy conquering our willpower challenges, but it's most definitely worth it.


Did you make any new year's resolutions? If so, how are you doing with them? How do you stay focused?
 

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The Willpower Instinct: a book review

I've always thought that I have a fair amount of willpower. And according to Kelly McGonigal, author of The Willpower Instinct, that probably means I don't have much.

Although I'm a non-addict and my struggles with weight have been few (and totally limited to a couple porky semesters early on in college), I really should exercise more, I have a terrible time getting up when I want to in the morning, I have a love affair with marshmallows, and we all know about my best frenemy - procrastination.

But then, who doesn't have a good handful of personal willpower challenges?

McGonigal knows that willpower challenges plague all of us. That's why a couple years back, she started teaching course on willpower as part of Stanford's Continuing Studies program. The course was a smash hit and this book picks up its cues from the course . . . i.e, McGonigal teaches her course over 10 weeks; the book is divided into 10 chapters.

And how lucky we all are to be able to take the course, even if we're thousands of miles away from McGonigal's lecture hall. This book gathers together the many scientific studies about willpower and presents their findings in an interesting and conversational manner that makes clear what these studies tell us about the decisions we make every day. McGonigal's conversational tone can almost trick you into thinking she's talking only to you and she possesses a wicked sense of humor.

While the book is labeled as a self-help book, you won't find any big claims or even definite answers in this book. Instead, McGonigal points to proven ways that people can increase their willpower (hint: think exercise, yoga, and taking time to truly relax). She goes to great lengths to explain the inner workings of our brain and how instincts picked up back in our hunter gather days continually undermine our own logic today. (Come on evolution, keep up!)

I really enjoyed this book. It's funny, honest, and fascinating. In the pages of The Willpower Instinct I found permission to let go of some the guilt I hold when I don't live up to my own expectations (turns out that guilt just makes it harder for me to succeed the next go-round) and also learned how to pay better attention to the thoughts that run through my mind before I opt for an instant reward rather instead of continuing to strive towards a long term goal. If you've ever wondered why your mind can often be your own worst enemy, this book's a fast read that's well worth the time. 

You can find more information and discussions about The Willpower Instinct over at the BlogHer book club.

 
Disclosure: I participated in this review for the BlogHer Book Club. I was compensated for my time and received a complimentary copy of the book. However, all opinions expressed in the review are my own.

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Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat

Okay, so I don't really know about the geese getting fat, since Andy has yet to let me follow my lifelong fairly new minted dream of being a poultry farmer, but I do know that Christmas really is coming. I don't mean to be an alarmist, but you guys, the most consumer-ist holiday of all is a mere 16 weeks away. That boils down to just four months. How did that happen?!

I know, I know, you're probably going "Whoa there, four months is still kind of a lot of time." And you know, you're right. But the thing about the holidays is that they have a tricky little way of sneaking up on us and this year, I'm not going to let that happen. 

I'm not sure what got holidays on my brain. Maybe it's the fact that there's been a little autumn nip in the air the last week or so (although yesterday, the temp rose to 88 degrees, which I felt was highly unnecessary), the shortening days, the holiday gift guide planning I see going on at some indie blog/businesses, or maybe it's just that I bumped into an acquaintance last week who, when she heard about my temporary second job, said "well, Christmas is coming."

Considering that procrastination has always been my BFF, the holidays pose some issues for me. My freelance/contract workstyle also means that my income fluctuates drastically from month to month, from week to week. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it pours, sometimes it dries right up into a drought. And December, inevitably, seems to be an income drought period.

But you know what? I'm tired of hyperventilating every time I think about buying Christmas presents. I'm tired of looking at my gift giving budget and determining that I have enough money to get everyone a sock. Not a pair of socks, mind you. Just one. You may remember that back in January, I resolved to start up a Christmas fund.  Even on January 1 of this year, I knew I wanted 2012 to be the year I get my act together for the holidays. Here's how I'm going to do it:

#1 Save and Budget

Since January of this year, I've been contributing $10 a week to my Christmas fund. It's been a very painless way to slowly save up for the impending holidays and by the time Christmas rolls around, I'll have $500 in the bank specifically designated for presents and other related expenses. For me, the hardest part of Christmas is figuring out nice, meaningful gifts on a shoestring budget. By being an intentional saver all year long, I've managed to make my shoestring a little fatter this year without feeling any pinch.
 
"But Ada," I hear you say. "I haven't been saving for the holidays since the start of the year like you . . . how is this tip applicable to me?"

Here's the thing, Christmas is still 16 weeks away. If you saved $25 every week up until Christmas, you'd have $400. If you could manage $100 a week, you'd have $1600. Wow!

#2 Making A List, Checking It Twice

You know how they say about life, it's hard to get anywhere if you don't know where you're going? You could say something similar about your Christmas shopping list.  If you don't know who you're shopping for, it's hard to set a budget. By drawing up a preliminary game plan for your Christmas shopping (yes, now) you'll be able to scope out the best deals on items and start actually buying presents months in advance.

#3 Do It, Do It Now

There are plenty of people (mostly Andy's relatives) who aren't on my official gift buying list, but who we'll end up exchanging gifts with. That's partly why I can a shit-ton quite a bit of jams, sauces, and other food products during the summer months. Plaster a bow onto ones of those jars and you've got yourself a lovely homemade present. And will all the hard work of chopping, stirring and canning months behind me, it feels like a very easy, but still nice gift to give.

I'm a big fan of homemade presents as a way to save a penny or too. But if you decide you're going to knit everyone on your list scarves for Christmas on, say, Pearl Harbor Day, you're going to spend the next 18 days knitting like a mad person, stressed out, and wishing you had more time. So if you're planning to go the handmade route for your presents this year, now is the time to start assembling supplies and making the items. Trust me. Or at the very least, start putting some thought into the gifts you might like to make and/or give. It's not too early to start scouring Pinterest and Ravelry for cute ideas!

Anyone else planning for the holidays yet, or am I the only nut job out there planning this far in advance? Any other tips for making the holiday gift giving season full of win this year?

 

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The Freelance Writing Trenches: Consistency

Did I ever tell you that I procrastinate?

I didn't?

I'm sure I've been meaning to tell you that. I just, you know, haven't gotten around to it yet.

That's right. Not only am I "Judge-y McJudgerson," I procrastinate. All the time. (I'd say I really am more than just a lovely bundle of faults, but really, are any of us beyond just being a lovely bundle of faults? Really?)

Source: Uploaded by user via Ruth Ann on Pinterest

 

I crave organization and schedules. I want color-coded day planners. I want to know that at 7:45 each morning I will be sitting down with my breakfast to check emails and that I will start my work day promptly at 8 each morning and that at 12:30 . . .

But the truth is: I'm hot or cold. Some weeks it's like someone started a fire under my bum and I bask in the glory of my own production. Other weeks. . . . Well, other weeks I bask in the glory of Facebook and Pinterest.

Source: google.com via Eric on Pinterest

BTW, what is up with that quote? Apparently I need to figure out a way to get to a living wage out of Facebook and Pinterest . . . .

Sometimes I imagine what would happen if I was actually consistent and could take those crazy productive weeks and those not so inspiring weeks and mix them all together to create a slow but steady pace for the year's 52 weeks. I imagine projects would be completed in advance of deadlines, clutter would diminish, and my blood pressure would lower. But I've never been able to maintain a carefully regimented schedule. I'm easily distracted (ooo, shiny!) and I'm not sure I'm capable of writing without a dose of stressful adrenaline that bubbles through my veins when I flip the day planner page and find a row of little deadlines staring straight back at me.

Still, some nice things would come from having a more consistent schedule and work ethic. It would mean that when an editor sends me a deadline reminder and I email back saying I'm nearly done with those stories that I'd really meant that I was nearly done with the stories not that, I'm thinking about maybe giving the sources for the story a call this afternoon. It would mean that I wouldn't being doing phone interviews at 7 and 8 tonight because I  would have done them ahead of time. But sadly, that's just not the case.

So here's to procrastination and the production it inspires . . . eventually.

 

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Imperfect Timing

This blog post has been delayed twice.

First I took a Facebook pause to finalize Summer Crafting plans. The whole crafting tribe is headed north for some crafting good times at the cabin. It took months of planning, but at long last, the dates are set!

As I untangled myself from Facebook's vicious grasp, the phone rang. Not a telemarketer, not Andy checking in, but an actual source for the article I'm currently working returning my call and willing to give me all the information I needed. *gasp!*

These are both very good things.

Now, having missed lunch, I'm cramming a plate of nachos into my face while trying to get at least one more thing done on my to-do list before Andy and I sprint to town for gas, groceries and banking after his work day and before he heads over to fire training.

I had a feeling today might have a thing for imperfect timing.

The sneaking feeling started when I began making phone calls for my article over my breakfast oatmeal, only to find my two main sources I'd been counting on were out of town. Now what?

Frustrated, but undeterred, I hopped in the shower. As I lathered up my hair with shampoo, the power went out. As soap suds dripped down my back in the dark, I wondered what I supposed to do. Run down to the lake naked and rinse off? That didn't seem particularly environmentally friendly and even the more conservative option of wrapping myself in a towel and grabbing a bucket full of lake water to dump over my soap head at least 150 feet away from the shoreline seemed less than ideal. But just as I slid back the shower curtain, the power came back on. Disaster diverted! 

Full rinsed off (and clothed), I headed back to the computer to hammer out the first of two articles due on Friday. After what seemed like forever and many a grumble about "this being my day off," a perfectly formed article appeared in the Word document and I decided to take a break to check the mail. But when I opened the mailbox there was no mail inside! Either we received no mail today or I'd beaten the mail lady to the punch. *grumble, grumble, grumble*

And then I sat down to write this post and everything, sort of, magically, came together.

Like the saying goes: "Pobody's Nerfect." That goes for timing too. But that's okay. I can wait.

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You Can Do It, I Can Help . . .

Time, time, time . . .see what's become of me . . .

I hear this a lot from people who think they might have a book hiding inside of them or who think they like to pocket it a little extra cash by penning a freelance article. "How," they ask, "How do you make time to write?"

The simple answer to is that writers don't make time to write.  Nobody does. There's no secret elfin factory manufacturing extra hours to the day. (But if there was, no doubt, the elves would chip away at hours and minutes and seconds and days in a tree like this.) We're all given 168 hours each week. How we spend that time is up to us. It's a choice. (Unless of course, you're my friend Sarah who's an auditor and works crazy hours this time of year. If you have a job which swallows your life whole, this time management post is not for you.)

Let's make something clear here: I am by no means the model student when it comes to allotting all the time I could to my writing pursuits. Like everyone else, I'm easily distracted.

But all that wondering about how to become a writer, all that waiting around for the magic key, kind of reminds me of that Mary Oliver quote: "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

If you're really serious about being a writer, you need to at least put writing on your to-do list. And then, theoritically, you will do some writing and check it off the list. 

If you haven't noticed, I'm a big fan of to-do lists.I make pretty elaborate to-do lists for each week and am frequently disappointed when Saturday afternoon rolls around and I haven't checked off half of the things on the list. Because here's the issue: I fashion to-do lists with so many items that run the whole gamut of my lifestyle, when I looked at the long list I would get overwhelmed and inevitably I chose the task which requires the least effort on my part. 

Then last week I tried out a tip I found in the latest issue of Better Homes and Gardens: only put two or three things on your daily to-do list. You have to select the very most important things you need to get done in the day (namely, anything you get paid to do) and anything you feel guilty about not getting done, like that writing project. Make each tasks as specific as possible. Don't say "start writing novel." Instead write "outline chapters 1-3." You can't list making supper, hauling in wood, checking the mail or whatever other everyday tasks you're bound to do anyway. (I do however have to list "exercise" on my task list.) I still keep the weekly to-do list and then divvy up my tasks in little bite-sized chunks each day. Let me tell you, it felt really good checking off things on two separate lists and having a completely accomplished weekly to-do list last Saturday evening.

Try it out. If you can wiggle writing time into those few all important tasks you need done each day, you might be pleased at how the words start piling up on the page.

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Unhorsed!

So much for getting 2011 sorted out. The intrepid winter warriors (Andy and Andrew) returned from their winter camping trip a day early, arriving at the cabin Tuesday evening, ready for chili and the last pieces of Sunday's blueberry pie.

In the 30 short hours they were gone, I'd gotten quite comfortable in my temporary singlehood: it's amazing how quickly you can revert to eating at random hours, getting a ton of work and writing done, you know, doing your own thing. Still, I wasn't surprised or disappointed to see the two trekkers out of the woods early. But I did know it meant all those plans I'd made for Tuesday evening and Wednesday proper were going to need amending.

So yesterday proved an impromptu day off, one which involved a run to town for groceries and supplies and afternoon ice fishing adventures. With blue skies above us, temperatures in the high teens and a mostly packed trail before us, we hiked into a Boundary Waters lake and set up shop.

Let's be honest, staring at this for an extended period of time kind of has a finite amount of fun packed into it. After about fifteen minutes, feet start to get antsy, hands grow a little cold and even the lake hole itself starts to ice over. Luckily, there were plenty of distractions.

Aircraft aren't allowed to fly over the Boundary Waters. (Well, they are, but they need to be way up in the air.) So we were surprised to see this helicopter flying very low and very deliberately about the area. Probably the DNR doing moose surveys.

There was also this cliff right behind our ice fishing operation which I thought I ought to climb up.

But about 2/3rds of the way to the top of the cliff, I ran into an obstacle. The hike had turned into rock climbing, or what I assumed was rock climbing. In actuality, the snow had packed itself into thick ledges which I could clamor over with some success. However, when I finally ran out of hand holds, I had to concede that this was not going to be the way I was getting to the top of the cliff. At about the same time, the snow under my foot remembered it wasn't supported by any physical feature. It let go and I slid 10 feet backward down the cliff side, coming to an abrupt stop in the crooks of a cedar tree.

All I could see was this, a filtered view of the lake below through the tree tops. And I was nursing a big knob of a bruise on the back of my thigh from my not-so-soft landing on a broken off branch. Undeterred, I soldiered on. I headed back down to the lake ice and tried the route to the top of the cliff on the other side of the cliff.  It was a lot easier going the other way -- just a hike up a hill. But when I finally got to the top, it seemed like you could see forever.

You can make plans, but that doesn't mean you'll keep them. You can set out to climb a cliff, but sometimes you have to come down and try it from a different angle. 

P.S. Speaking of owls like we were yesterday, Jenn over at Rook No. 17 whipped up some cute Valentine's Day owls. Definitely worth a peek!

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Getting A Thrill

”Some people get a thrill knitting sweaters and sitting still.” -- Stephen Sondheim (Gypsy)

I was listening to NPR’s Fresh Air this weekend and Terry Gross had musical composer Stephen Sondheim on discussing his work. In high school I always assumed I’d like Stephen Sondheim’s work a lot, since “Send in the Clowns” is one of my favorite songs, but an Introduction to Theatre class in college that featured a lot of Stephen Sondheim quickly squelched that thought. After watching Bernadette Peters in Into the Woods and A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum I’d had enough Sondheim to last me a long time.

Still, my curiosity was piqued when I heard him on Fresh Air. I’m not sure Terry’s interview changed my feelings for the man. (I simply don’t care for his musical sensibilities and he probably wouldn’t care for mine.) Yet, I found myself particularly interested when they got around to discussing the above line from Gypsy.

Because there’s been a fair amount of sitting still in the weeks since the museum closed and I do like my knitting.

What struck me about the lyrics of “Some People” was how it once again enforces the rather American notion that we can’t find true happiness unless we leave everything we know behind us and stick it to someone (preferably "the man"). As a person who lives within an hour of her childhood home, I find this a somewhat trying notion. I get the whole following your dreams thing, but I’m still uncertain why all dreams lead to L.A. or NYC.

But I do understand the fear of falling into the trap of “same ol’, same ol’.” Despite my claims of being a self starter and an independent worker, I’ve proven to be easily distracted. My days seem longer now that I’m not working out of the home, but time as a whole seems to have sped up. It’s easy to schedule things in the middle of the day that interrupt the flow of the entire day.

It’s not to say that things haven’t gotten done. My first novel query came back with a response that the person was no longer working as a literary agent. (Ha, there’s a likely story, I thought, but I do know for a fact that he just hung up his literary hat this past week.)  I’ve been reading a lot of good books. And let me tell you about the socks I’ve been knitting . . . .

However, knitting socks (despite the thrill) doesn’t get any bill paid. It’s time to start getting a thrill from getting some work done.

What do you get a thrill out of?

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False (?) Dichotomy: a good time or gum disease?

My senior year of college, I wrote a weekly column for the student newspaper called “Preparing for a Paradoxical World.” I was in my second year as news editor for the paper and why I decided I had time to pen a weekly column addressing the hypocrisy that most college students will face following graduations, I don’t know. Anyway . . . .

The real point is, we twenty-somethings face a barrage of contradictory advice: take time to build your career, don’t rush into a relationship, have kids before you’re too old to enjoy them, travel now, don’t go without health care. Obviously we can’t have everything and when we sidle up to the life decisions’ counter, we have some interesting mixing and matching to do with an infinite amount of choices. Just yesterday when Andy went into the clinic for a minor (minor) illness, his prescription ended up costing more than $100 out of pocket. Even when we make decisions, like to be one of the young adults with health insurance, we’re not always in for a straight forward ride.

Last week, I wrote about my resistance to get my hair cut with any regularity. Today’s topic is another source of procrastination: making a dentist’s appointment.

My teeth are pretty much just fine. I never had braces and my parents (bless their souls) had the foresight not to feed my brother and me tons of sugary pop, candy, or other “teeth busters.” Cavities are not something I have to contend with. Still, my teeth are due for a check up and cleaning. To be honest, they’ve been due for a check up and cleaning for nearly two years.

Yet, there always seems to be some expense that takes precedent over a dentist appointment. Just last week, as Andy and I pondered whether or not we should go down to Duluth the night before his seminar and spend the night in a hotel, it struck me that the cost of the hotel room for the night was just about the cost of a visit to the dentist.

Really, I thought, I’m making a decision between a good time and gum disease? It should be a no-brainer. I mean, plaque that builds on your teeth is the very same stuff that can clog up your heart and lead to heart disease down the road. And I’ve written enough health and wellness articles this year to know I’d rather not deal with cardiac rehab anytime soon.

But the money spent on the dentist is just high enough and my teeth are just fine enough, to make me think this is an expense that can be put off, for another month here or another two months here. Keep up that behavior long enough and before you know it, it’s been two years since the last time I had a dental hygienist yelling at me about not flossing.

Being an adult often means the fun thing to do is not the right thing to do. And that’s an irony I don’t always feel strong enough to deal with. But I’ve really got to make a dentist appointment one of these days . . . .

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A B.A. Doesn’t Get You Out of Washing Cars

What do you do with a B.A. in English? -- Princeton, Avenue Q

The summer after I graduated from college, I worked at a canoe outfitters. I did a lot of things when I worked there, namely transporting guests to the starting points of their canoe trips and spending a lot of time in the packing room, putting together the guests’ food packs. There was a lot of cleaning involved in the job too and often times, when we were getting low on priority things to do, we were asked to clean the vans that we used to transport guests.

I feel far enough removed from the experience to safely admit that I disliked . . . . no, I abhorred washing and cleaning the vans. It just wasn’t much fun. I hated trying (and usually failing) to get all of the windows completely smudge free. I disliked crawling around the filthy floors with a Shop-Vac.

Indeed, I got pretty good at finding something else to do whenever I feared some van cleaning might be in order. I had a college degree after all. Let the lowly high school graduate (sorry Andrew) take one for the team and scrub down the vans. I didn't spend four years getting a B.A. for nothing. Heck, no was I going to make my living washing cars.

And still . . .

I have known for a while now that my car is certifiably disgusting. Still, I was waiting for the “big ah-ha” that would signal it was time to actually wash the car. When you live pretty far out of town and your driveway is gravel, it can seem pointless to wash your car: it’s just going to get dirty again. But  when I realized I was mildly embarrassed to pick up my car from the mechanic this afternoon, I knew my car was approaching a state of filth that warranted washing. 

As I approached the car, it became apparent. My car was not close to needing to be cleaned; it needed to be cleaned.

There’s been a lot of pollen in the air and what wasn’t in the air, was apparently on my car. That was kind of gross.

But the real clincher was when I realized my car so resembled a bit of nature that a bunch of diarrhea-stricken birds had decided to converge on it in the mechanic’s parking lot.

 Eureka!

The abundance of bird shite forced me to take a good hard look at the Corolla, inside and out.

A lot of the gravel driveway had migrated onto the floor.

There had been some trips to town when the coffee jumped out of the mug. (We have travel mugs, we just usually can’t find them.)

So I washed my car. And I Windexed the windows and wiped down the dusty, dusty dashboard. I vacuumed out the whole car. Of course, it really didn’t take that long.

Here’s the shiny Corolla. A bit less sparkly after the 60-mile drive home from town, but sooooo much better.

What do you do with a B.A. in English? Well, for one thing, you can wash cars.

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