Working On Me

It's an old cliché that everyone has a book inside them, but there is an element of truth to the idea. At the very least, we could all write a book called, "Important Things I Have Learned In My Life".

An interesting idea is to write an outline of your version of this book. What are the main chapter headings? Will you organise it chronologically from childhood to the present, or by topic? What will be the key points in each chapter?

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.

Creativity is all about connecting things and ideas that haven't been connected before. Just as in any other endeavour, this becomes easier if you practise, so here is one of my favourite creativity exercises.

Go to your bookcase (or to the library) and pick up any three books. Make the selection totally random. Retire somewhere comfortable with a pen, paper and the three books. Flick though them. If one or more is non-fiction, read through the contents page. Now on the paper, list as many connections as you can between the three books. Absolutely anything goes: they're all written by Americans, for instance, they all make reference to journeys or they all have some green on the cover.

When you thing you've got as many connections as you can find, count them. Now set yourself the target of doubling that number. Skim again through some of the text, letting your mind range free and allow the more off-the-wall connections come to light. You'll be surprised how creative you can be.

Those of you who journal can use this as a journalling exercise, too. Rather than listing all the connections, though, just pick one and expand on it, exploring the relationship between the books.

You can never have too many, can you? I have discovered an everlasting supply of prompts that you can tap whenever you want. Have a look at this web page. The author lists 50 things he has learned in 50 years. Some of them are humorous, some profound, but every single one of them provokes thoughts and reactions.

I have a printout of that article folded and tucked inside my journal. Not every day, but whenever I feel like it, I pick an item - the next in the list - write it in my journal and then note my reactions and explain how my experiences relate. This article of fifty points will last me at least three months. Before this one, I worked my way through several similar articles; the web contains thousands of them. Many are themed ('Twenty ways to be a nicer person' or '25 ideas that will make work more enjoyable', for example) and these can provide an interesting focus to your journal for a few weeks.

I've been reading Where Did It All Go Right by Andrew Collins, a wonderful tale of a perfectly normal upbringing in the 1970s with little in the way of the trauma - real or imagined - that seems endemic to childhood memoirs these days.

The book is rich and vivid with detail. Friends' names, television programmes, full meals even are described seemingly effortlessly. I know that I couldn't dredge such details from my memory; the seven-year-old me is pretty much lost to me now. But Andrew Collins has an unfair advantage. He kept a diary throughout his childhood from the age of six. The early entries tend towards the brief:

Today I saw Star Trek on television and I went to Jeremy Skoyles's birthday but there wasn't any prizes.

These little notes, though are the keys that unlock the gates of memory. Although my own journal started rather more recently, I can read an entry from - say - three years ago, even a brief one, and instantly be back watching the events it describes. I can remember the events themselves and I can remember writing about them, some of my thinking about what to write and what to omit. This revisiting and review is the secret to improving long term memory. I'll always now be able to unlock my memory of events from my late thirties onwards, but I envy greatly Andrew Collins's ability to do so right back to the age of six.

Let your imagination run wild and one day in your journal write about the day as though it were the best day you have ever experienced. Imagine the events and people that might have made it so good, then write about them. Don't feel bound by realism, either; if your best day requires you to meet someone who is dead or visit another planet, go for it. But aim for as many events and experiences as you can. Try to reflect in your writing on why these events, these people and conversations give you so much pleasure.

After a few days, re-read the entry and amid all the fantasy, see if there are some things in there you could realistically plan to do or get closer to. Journal how you plan to make them happen.

Last week I wrote about using your journal for problem solving. I thought it would be useful to provide some more examples of implementation of this idea. Here are some openers I've used myself:

1. There are fifteen jobs around the house I need to get to the next time I have a day off.
2. There are ten coutries I want to visit on holiday in the next few years.
3. I shall list twenty way of saving money from the family budget.
4. Here are five ways I can make more time to exercise every day.

Remember to state a number which is slightly more than you think you'll be able to come up with.