Tag: routine

perfectionism, part three: consistency

“Continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection.”   –Mark Twain

A huge part of what stunts creative work is the feeling that we need to do perfect work instead of prolific amounts of work. In last week’s post about procrastination as it relates to perfectionism, I compared this to taking continuous steps rather than making a single, intimidating leap. There are habits creatives can adopt to keep on a consistent schedule of creating and keep that daunting beast of perfectionism at bay.

Routine

Many highly focused people, especially creatives, maintain consistency by creating rigid daily routines. My grandfather was very routine-driven. Every evening he would shave, shower, and get into his pajamas. Then he would fix himself a small stack of cheese and saltines, which he ate while he made his to-do list for the following day on a pocket-sized memo pad. During his lunchtime, he would check off what he had done so far that day, then revisit the list in the evening. If anything wasn’t done, he carried it over to tomorrow’s list. He knew exactly what needed to be done the next day, so he could just wake up and start doing them without having to waste time deciding where to start or devising a plan of action. He created momentum for getting things done every day because his consistency eliminated any guesswork for what would need to be done when he showed up to the tasks every morning.

Having too much freedom can invite paralysis. Narrowing your focus ahead of time makes tasks easier to check off your list, so you will be more likely to accomplish them. Eliminate as many choices as possible so you’re not overwhelmed, and be specific about your to-do list for the next day. Having tomorrow’s tasks in mind when you go to bed allows your subconscious to mull it over all night and wake up in the morning with a fresh perspective.

Don’t Break the Chain

Developing a consistent habit keeps you from crashing and burning when you just don’t feel like showing up. Jerry Seinfeld is credited with the technique of “not breaking the chain.” In short, if you want to be motivated to improve at something, mark off on a calendar each day that you’ve shown up and done that thing. Once you see a chain of marked off days, you won’t want to see an unmarked day on the calendar. You don’t want to see that you’ve broken your promise to yourself. You want to keep the chain going as long as possible. Once you break one link, it’s easy to let yourself break another one. The longer the chain, the more motivated you’ll be to keep it going. Show up every day to maintain momentum and keep Resistance at bay. Say yes every single day to the activity that’s most important to you.

Often like begets like. When I start writing, I get ideas for several more things I want to write about. That creates an idea snowball. Conversely, if I skip a weekly post or my daily writing, it’s way too easy to let myself flake out on consecutive days. Want momentum and endless ideas? Keep the yes going.

Practice, Practice, Practice

If you haven’t read the book Art and Fear, please stop reading and go buy it or check it out at your local library. You can read it in a couple of hours and it will change your life. In it, we are told the parable of two groups of ceramics students. One group was to be judged solely on the quality of their work, the other on quantity. While the quality group focused their efforts on creating one perfect pot, the other group turned out so many iterations that they got really good at it. Because they had so much more practice than the quality group, the quantity group ended up producing a higher quality.

clay-pots-jodhpur

There’s an old Chinese parable along the same lines. A king commissioned an artist to paint a picture of a rooster. After a year, the artist had still not come through with the painting and the king complained. The artist painted him a perfect rooster on the spot. The king responded, “If you can paint a perfect rooster in five minutes, why has it taken so long for you to give me this painting?” The artist shows the king to his studio, where there are stacks of thousands of rooster paintings. He tells the king, “It has taken me a year to be able to paint a perfect rooster in five minutes.”

rooster2

When we get hung up on perfectionism over just showing up and practicing consistently, we can miss the big picture. We get better by doing. Rarely will our work be up to our own standards, but we can only hope to excel by doing it thousands of times. Ira Glass states it nicely:

Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.

It’s not a matter of choosing either quality or quantity. Quantity begets quality. Don’t let perfectionism keep you from producing work that may not meet your standards. Don’t make perfectionism your goal; you can only hope to get any closer to it by producing lots and lots of (probably bad) work. Every work you treat as practice is another step further in your growth as a creative.

Consistency Defines You

Here’s a related thought from an earlier post about permission :

Consistency is what gives you permission to call yourself something. You can call yourself whatever you want; it’s what you actually do that people will notice and identify you by. Who you are isn’t defined by whether or not you’re getting attention, or if somebody picked you out of a lineup of other people vying for attention, or somebody telling you that you’re good enough. You are what you consistently do…when you show up every day, you are showing up to the same world as everyone else, but you are showing up with your story.

What you do on a consistent basis is what identifies you to others. The work that you do the most is what sets you apart.

avoidance & comparison

The difference between “failure” and “unstoppable force” is all psychological.

I’m usually a just get it done kind of person, except when it comes to my own personal work. I get up at 4 a.m. every morning to write, but it often gets pushed back to twenty minutes before I have to be out the door for my day job because shower/breakfast/feed the dog….When I come home I put off drawing because I should finish Learn Lettering first. But I also have to do laundry, and I have a massive headache. It’s so easy to fritter away time by pushing back the one thing that needs your focus until after this one little distraction. The feeling of having waded through all of the distractions and looking for more can feel an awful lot like boredom, but it’s a symptom of avoidance. Unless you’re content doing nothing all day every day (which I suspect my readers are not), you know what you have to do. Why does it feel like the last thing in the world you want to do right now? Because it’s important. Why is it the hardest thing to get started? Because the only person who has any expectations of you is the one person telling you to do something else.

I can crush it at the day job because it’s easy to create a clear to-do list for something external; I can detach myself from it. I can put my head down and work through a migraine because I get paid to and I can clock out and go home at the end of the day. It’s not personal. It’s somehow easier to adhere to extrinsic guidelines, even if you’re the one creating the task list within that structure. But imposing guidelines and expecting results for your own personal work is somehow a different animal. There’s that nagging Resistance monster somewhere deep in my subconscious telling me it’s just a hobby.

What I’m really avoiding is the idea that I could actually be successful at something and be capable of leaving my day job in the foreseeable future. I’m excited and scared of leaving something I know exactly how to do–even if I stopped loving it–and diving into something that’s a mix of both familiar and uncharted territory. I’m avoiding picking one thing because I’m afraid that means saying no to everything else.

It’s also scary because being successful means running with successful people..and being able to keep up.

I know it’s ridiculous to fear leaving behind something that doesn’t light you up inside. If there’s something else that makes you feel like it’s your reason for being, why should there be any fear in pursuing that? I guess we’re geared to seek safety. Mundane is safe. The known is safe. Routine and ease are safe. But staying with the known out of convenience doesn’t challenge us to be our best selves.

There’s a fine line between being inspired by surrounding ourselves people who do good work and being intimidated to the point of self-loathing. It’s important to surround yourself with people who are good at a skill you want to learn or who are good at living life in a way that you’d like to live yours. Glean wisdom from their experience, but be careful not to compare their level of success to yours. This can be paralyzing. There’s a tipping point; beware of it.

You get stuff done by showing up and doing it. You get great by practicing. You get prolific by not letting anything stop you.

I can too easily go from looking at the work of someone I admire and thinking, “I can do that,” to looking at the volume of their work and thinking, “Damn, I don’t just need to step up my game…I feel like I’m not even in the game.” It’s like getting pumped up for a workout. You start warming up and get the adrenaline going. “You’ve got this!” you tell yourself. Then you get lapped by a group of marathon runners and lose all desire to continue. Why? Because you made the mistake of comparing where you’re at now to where they are after lots and lots of training. Giving up and sitting on the bench isn’t going to get you to their level. You step up your game by learning from people who know the game better than you, not by quitting because you’re not good enough. You have to start somewhere and improve you, not compare yourself to someone else’s progress. Even experts were new at something once. Even marathoners had to learn how to walk.

Well, what gives the people you admire that level of success? They have a large volume of work because they commit to doing it all the time. They practice all the time. It’s great if you can look at others’ work and be impressed by how much time and effort they put in to become as good as they are, then be inspired to action. It’s dangerous if you fall into the trap of comparison and let it stifle your motivation. It’s crazy how quickly I went from despairing and feeling like a failure to closing my browser and just writing. When I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started writing, I felt like an unstoppable force. I got bogged down in looking to others because I was avoiding my own work.

But you know what’s funny and never feels obvious at the time? Just doing my own work was the solution to getting my own work done. Imagine that! You get stuff done by showing up and doing it. You get great by practicing. You get prolific by not letting anything stop you. The difference between “failure” and “unstoppable force” is all psychological. The only difference was that I made myself start typing what was going on in my head. It’s kind of a chicken-and-egg situation, but doing is what caused the mental shift from negative to positive. I called out the monster that was psyching me out and keeping me from believing I could be anything. I simply stopped avoiding my own work and the fear subsided.

on journaling

originally prompted by julia cameron’s concept of ‘morning pages,’ i have returned to my habit of trying to knock out 500 words in my notebook every morning, however mundane the subject matter. invariably, my entries remain so mundane that i become rather embarrassed and begin to question the benefit of such an exercise. but i keep at it, because so much of writing is making time for it, developing the habit, showing up to the work. get out the nonsense while developing the routine of writing, eventually making room for your creative voice to make itself heard.

so the muse, in her infinite wisdom, must have seen fit to give me a token of reassurance that this undertaking is not in vain. i’m fortunate enough to often be able to listen to my ipod for a few hours at work. i’m obsessed with a handful of podcasts, not the least of which includes Selected Shorts, a collection of short stories performed live on stage. Today I listened to Parker Posy read Joan Didion’s essay “On Keeping a Notebook.”

Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.

“yes. go on…” said my brain.

How it felt to me: that is getting closer to the truth about a notebook. I sometimes delude myself about why I keep a notebook, imagine that some thrifty virtue derives from preserving everything observed. See enough and write it down, I tell myself, and then some morning when the world seems drained of wonder, some day when I am only going through the motions of doing what I am supposed to do, which is write — on that bankrupt morning I will simply open my notebook and there it will all be, a forgotten account with accumulated interest, paid passage back to the world out there…

this is how i feel about keeping a notebook. it’s not the same as keeping a journal. i do not merely recount things that happen from day to day. i’m free to write whatever i like, even though it is often very dull and seems pointless to commit to paper. but i do enjoy going back and reading the stupid little things that i, at one point, did commit to paper because some part of my brain saw fit to remember it in the first place. even though the insecure “rearranger” in me cringes, there’s something less lonely in the remembering.

our notebooks give us away, for however dutifully we record what we see around us, the common denominator of all we see is always, transparently, shamelessly, the implacable “I.” We are not talking here about the kind of notebook that is patently for public consumption, a structural conceit for binding together a series of graceful pensees; we are talking about something private, about bits of the mind’s string too short to use, an indiscriminate and erratic assemblage with meaning only for its marker.

she continues that even if the notebook keeper doesn’t herself know the meaning of what she writes, there is merit in the exercise. it benefits the writer to be fanciful and without censor, because it belongs to no one else.

thanks for the nudge, Joan. and happy belated 79th.

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