Working On Me

I am fascinated with the idea of externalising the thought process. I've written about it in several guises here in the blog over the last year, and it seemed appropriate to look at them all together as my hundredth blog post.

Thought happens very quickly, much more quickly than speech, for instance. This is why the mind can wander when we're listening to someone speak; we can process information mentally far more quickly than the typical speed at which a person speaks. But this speed is at a cost. Often before we have fully explored an idea, we have moved on to something else. Worse, even a great idea can be quickly lost of we don't find some way of recording it before it is washed away in the tide of our relentlessly changing thought stream.

The answer is to force the thinking to slow down, to eternalise it. One way to do this is to 'think aloud'. People often say they do their best, clearest thinking when they are talking to someone else. Reducing the thought to the speed of speaking makes us think more deeply and with more care, even when we're talking quite quickly. This is surely one of the reasons why psychoanalysis and counselling are believed to be so worthwhile; when you externalise your thinking, you improve its quality.

I've looked at a number of ways of externalising your thinking in my blog, such as the brainstorm session for one, problem solving with a journal and writing daily goals. All three of these techniques work so well because they slow down and externalise the thought process, and the benefits of this are enormous.

Right now, as an exercise, grab a piece of paper or open a new text file or word processing document. Write at the top an open question you've been wondering about. It needs to be incapable of a yes or no answer. Words like "why" or "how" are good ways to start your question and what follows can be about your work, your relationships, goals or just about anything.

Once you've written the question, start writing some possible answers. Don't force it, and feel free to write around the subject and go off at tangents, but keep coming back to the question itself. I promise you will make real progress far greater than if you had simply continued to ponder the question in your head.

Many professional bodies encourage members to keep a learning log to track their continuing professional development. I've kept one for years and it's repaid the effort many times over.

A learning log is simply a chronological record of what you learn. I set mine out as a table, with these headings:

This last column is one that people often omit, but in my experience it is vital in ensuring that what I learn actually makes a difference in my work or life; by identifying when and how I will apply the learning, I make sure it doesn't just remain theoretical.

My logs go back to 1996 and I review them regularly to make sure I continue to apply all the great things I've learned.

I've been using Word forms for ages, and am always surprised when even quite large organisations send out old-fashioned forms that can't easily be completed on screen.

If you haven't yet discovered the joys of Word forms, then feel free to download and use my guide to them.

I haven't posted on the blog for over a week now, mostly because I've been transfixed by the Olympic Games TV coverage. At the same time I've been enjoying the sport, a certain guilt has been eating away at me that things I ought to be doing (including the blog) aren't getting done.

But then, the Olympic Games happen once in four years. Everyone in the house watches the sports and cheers and it brings us all together in a way that few things do. And so I have decided I can live with the guilt. Normal service will be resumed, but not today.

I just had to share this story, which I ought to warn contains some rather adult languauge. For me, it shows quite vividly the passion a writer can have for words (primarily in this case his own words, but I think the more general point stands.)

My purchase of a new 80GB iPod Classic (happy birthday, me!) allows me to travel with my entire collection of music in my pocket. Ths includes records I haven't listened to in years, an some I'm sure I've never listened to at all. But at any given time, choosing what to listen to is not a trivial matter. With 3,000 songs to choose between, where do I start? Too much choice can bring paralysis. The choice to be made is simply too daunting.

Writers have the ultimate free choice, of course: a blank page. A trick they often use to snap out of the 'too much choice' trap is to set themselves artificial restrictions. For instance, they might determine to write a first person narrative without using the words 'I' or 'me' more than once per page, or write entirely in iambs or trochees. It turns out that restricting your choices can actually improve creativity.

We often hear of people 'going the extra mile'. This means that they make sure they apply extra effort at the end of a job to ensure the best possible outcome. This is a very worthy aim, but often there isn't time to go the extra mile. But usually there's plenty of time to go an extra metre, to do just that little bit more to improve the outcome. Going the extra metre rather than the extra mile takes little effort and is more sustainable as a habit.

One way you can acquire the habit is to ask at the end of every task, "What one thing could I do to make this better?"

Do you have a 'filing pile'? Is there a piece of kitchen worksurface where you put the dishes when you've taken them out of the dishwasher before you then go an deposit them in a cupboard (or just leave some or all of them where they are for a while)?

Inspired in part by David Allen's Getting Things Done principles, I've been trying a new discipline. Once I've picked something up, I determine to put it down only in the right place. That means instead of putting a paper on the filing pile, I file it immediately. Rather than just dumping the clean washing basket on our bed, I empty it, put the clothes away and return the basket to its home. These are all actions I'll have to take eventually, and procrastinating by putting things down in the wrong place - doing half a job, if you like - actually costs me more time in the long run.