by Jenna | Mar 3, 2016 | Writing Articles
I mentioned in a recent post that I've written "in the past" about choosing your "three big rocks" for the year. Turns out "the past" was 2007 (!), so I thought it was worth sharing again.
I believe this idea has tremendous validity in our overly busy world.
Turns out, when we focus our efforts on the important things we want to accomplish and create with our lives, we are more productive and we are happier.
The Three Big Rocks concept has been spread by Stephen Covey, author of The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
I've heard it told a number of different ways. Here's an abridged version:
A time management expert places a large wide-mouthed jar on the table, and then puts several large rocks carefully into the jar. When the jar is packed to the top, he asks, "Is this jar full?"
Everyone watching says, "Yes."
He says, "Really?" He adds pebbles into the jar and the group watches as they work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks.
Then he asks again, "Is this jar full?"
By this time, the group is skeptical. "Maybe not," they say.
"Good!" he answers. He adds sand to the jar and it fills in the spaces left between the rocks and the pebbles.
Once more, he asks, "Is this jar full?"
"No!" they shout.
Once again, he says, "Good!"
Then he takes a pitcher of water and pours it in until the jar is full to the brim.
He then looks at the group and asks, "What do you think is the point of this Illustration?"
One eager beaver raises her hand and says, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit more things in."
"No," the speaker replies, "that’s not my point. The Truth is: If you don’t put the big rocks in first, you will never get them in at all."
We have to pick out what our "Big Rocks", organize our priorities around those, and only then look at what else we want to add into the remaining interstitial spaces of our lives.
No more of this "I have to take care of [8 million small things] before I can put my attention on my writing." Trust me, it doesn't work. Where you put your attention is what you get more of.
I've learned to put my focus on only three big rocks for any given day, and for the year as a whole as well.
Writing, of course, is always one of my big rocks. I manage to get MOST of the little things done as well. And the rest of them? Well, they aren't usually that important.
For this year, my three big rocks are my kids, my writing, and my business.
For today, my three big rocks are working on this blog post, working on my script, and writing two testimonials for my beloved coaches.
What are yours?
Powerful questions to ask yourself:
- What are the three most important things I want to accomplish today?
- What are the three big things I want to create or accomplish this year?
- What truly matters to me in terms of how I spend my time?
- How well are my choices matching up with what matters most to me?
You might also like this article I wrote for ScriptMag on the subject of being too busy to write.
Happy writing!
by Jenna | May 28, 2015 | Guest Posts
Note from Jenna: This is a guest post by Naomi Dunford, my friend and business consultant who runs IttyBiz.com.
Although she's writing from the perspective of business writing or blogging, her wonderful ideas for how to cope with "coming up empty" are useful for writers of all sorts.
Take a look and see what resonates as useful for you.
Today, I completely ran out of things to say.
I wrote the introductions for my next seven newsletters.
I found quotes for the next month.
I wrote 53 emails, planned a trip, and took two sales calls.
And I called my mother.
I should note here that I’m writing this on a Saturday.
I’m sure it comes as a surprise to nobody, but at some point in this process, I completely ran out of things to say.
And poor you! You are sitting there, breathlessly waiting for your next instalment of the IttyBiz daily and I am dry. I got nothing.
Hmm.
It’s weird when this happens. You’re on this crazy roll, getting an absolutely stupid amount of stuff done, and you’re getting accustomed to the momentum. It’s like shopping in a crazy busy mall. You get into a flow of bam! bam! bam! Dodge, charge, pivot, go, turn, and then…
Silence. Motionlessness.
It’s like all of a sudden the people are gone and the stores are shut and you’re not entirely sure what you’re supposed to do now.
What you are supposed to do now
When you are experiencing temporary burnout, you must do something that is not work.
That something should be, at minimum, comparable in time and attention level as a chunk of work. If you would be working for two hours, you should take at least two hours away. If you would be working on something mentally engrossing, you should do something equally engrossing.
This seems obvious to those around you, and yet completely counterintuitive to you. You think that you should stay busy, stay occupied, get something useful done. You think that you should try harder, or get a coffee, or stare at your computer screen for a while in case that solves the problem.
Nope. This is one of those few situations where the majority is actually right.
All your idiot friends who tell you that you need to take a little break, step away from the computer for a while? Those ones who just don’t get it?
Yeah, unfortunately, it’s you who doesn’t get it. (Please bear in mind here that when I say “you”, I mean “me”.)
Time for some practical examples!
If you were going to work on outlining your next project, and it was going to be mentally taxing, you need something that will not only utilize a completely separate area of your brain, but something that will actively restore you. A movie, perhaps. A run, maybe, as long as you’re not the type who thinks while you’re running.
If you were catching up on your emails and it wasn’t going to be taxing, you can just do something dumb and brainless. Candy Crush: Soda Saga is a nice choice here, but if you’re stuck on a level, you’ll only get five minutes. But the movie option still works. I routinely TiVo Jeopardy! for situations like this one.
If you’re doing something that’s making you numb, like taxes, you’re going to need something energizing. Some kind of personal treat would be a good idea, ideally something that gets you far away from the source of the problem. Drop in on a yoga class or get an ice cream. Bonus science points if you go somewhere you don’t normally go – it activates the novelty parts of your brain and makes you more alert for a good while afterwards.
Some tips for taking a break:
1. One thing that I find really helpful here is setting a little intention before you take your big break. I say something like, “OK, I’m going to go watch Legally Blonde so I can give my brain a chance to fully restore. That way I can come back rejuvenated and ready to kick some ass.”
I avoided doing this for a long time because I thought it was cheesy. Then I tried it and it worked. Then I tried it again and it worked again. Once the third time succeeded, I had to admit that it was a good strategy for me. I value science over ego, and if it works, it works.
2. If you hate the task, you may want to admit it to yourself. I don’t hate this task, I love it, but there are plenty I don’t love. When I was recording launch multipliers in month 11 of BIG LAUNCH, after I’d already done it once before but my computer wiped the files? Yeah, those are the kind of situations made for “Oh my God I ****ing hate my ****ing job and I ****ing hate this ****ing product and I swear I am moving to Costa Rica tomorrow.”
Sometimes, saying exactly how you feel is remarkably cathartic.
3. On the other hand, if it’s just standard issue fatigue, try to put a positive frame around your break. This is not the end of the world. You’re in a line of work that drains your resources. Being periodically drained is hardly a state of emergency. Sitting around saying you’re soooooo drained and soooooo tired and juuuuuust caaaaaaan’t work is not helpful.
Pretend you work for a moving company. Those guys are tired at the end of the day, and they probably can’t lift one more thing. You know what they do? They drink some beer, watch some baseball, and put their feet up. They do not put in an emergency call to their life coach, claiming existential catastrophe.
Sit down, enjoy your Strictly Ballroom, and smile. Your rejuvenating, not injured.
4. Plan for it. If you’re in a periodically draining line of work, this is going to happen. It might be a good idea to have a plan and some supplies on hand so you can immediately shift gears when you’re feeling the signs.
People with diabetes plan for crashes. Parents of preschoolers plan for crashes. Don’t get superstitious about this.
The more you plan for a crash, the faster you can recharge, and the faster you can get back on your feet.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out Naomi's other guest post here about writer's block.
by Jenna | Nov 13, 2013 | Writing Articles
Last week I met with a group of 13 moms to talk about "Designing Your Writing Life as a Mom". I was struck by the disconnect many of the mothers were experiencing around their creative identity, which is something many writers struggle with, parents or not.
Observations about creative identity
Here's what I noticed about creative identity through talking with these moms and working with writers through my writing community. And certainly the question of creative identity is not specific to writers, either, it translates across all forms of creative expression.
- When you aren't owning your creative identity, you can feel out of step with yourself, like you neither belong here nor there. This is about not being in touch with a sense of thinking of yourself as a "writer" or an "artist" yet -- or ever. (Some people don't like labels of any kind, but that's not quite what we're talking about here.) It's about having a deep sense of inner rightness connected to how you think of your answer to the question, "Who am I?"
- Coming to terms with your identity as an artist or writer can require dealing with old expectations and limiting beliefs about what it means to be creative. Sometimes, I find that these thoughts and beliefs revolve around negative perceptions of creativity as flaky and ungrounded. Sometimes this can also mean letting go of expectations -- and previous self-incarnations -- of wild and prolific creativity, especially when faced with Real Life challenges (like parenting, care giving, careers, and day jobs).
- As a culture we tend to diminish or devalue writing and creativity, so sometimes we resist calling ourselves by those identities. We're afraid to be laughed at or seen as not being serious by our peers in "real" jobs.
- As a culture we tend to also exalt creative expression only for certain types of artists or writers (usually "talented" or "successful" in a certain way), and we feel ashamed to try to claim our creative identity "too soon." I see this a lot in the debate about when we can consider ourselves "real" writers. Do we have to be published first? Do we have to be paid first? Many writers, including me, feel that if we're writing regularly we can call ourselves writers. I see this showing up when people say, "I am a struggling writer" or "I am a wannabe writer."
- Going through a major life transition can challenge your creative identity, like motherhood, major loss, career change, or divorce. I imagine this challenge could come in a good sense -- helping us more fully claim our identities -- or in more challenging one, where we lose all sense of ourselves and can't seem to find our way back. Often this comes about when we make a transition from one career to another (even if it's from one creative career to another). When I became a coach and left my urban design work behind, it took a long time to feel like a coach. When I became a writer as well as a coach, it took another solid chunk of time to transition into seeing myself as a writer.
Identity challenges coming out of an MFA program
One thing that also struck me when I listened to the mothers the other day was about how many of them had been through MFA programs and then into motherhood and now weren't writing. I suspect there are a few components to that process. In the first place, an MFA program can be an extremely intense phase of writing time -- even binge-writing -- which can be quite exhausting and requires time to recover from. I can still remember how finishing graduate school myself felt like hitting a brick wall -- intense action followed by a sudden, total full stop that left me adrift, much in the way a rushing river spilling out into a lake or ocean suddenly loses its force.
There's also a major shift in community. One writer I interviewed about going through an MFA program said, "There is a sense of loss in leaving an MFA program. You're surrounded by people who really care about writing, and then when you leave, you need to find a way to get continued support for your writing, and it's not easy."
On top of that, while an MFA program can be about becoming a writer in a very real sense, the focus is primarily on craft, and not so much on developing a consistent writing practice. My interviewee commented, "When I graduated, it was like I reentered the 'real world' and realized that, while I'd no doubt become a better writer, I hadn't developed consistent, sustainable writing habits, which was about learning a whole new skill." So it's easy to imagine that writers coming out of an intense program might suddenly feel at a loss about how to continue -- and even start to wonder who they are as their entire foundation changes.
Next time we'll talk more about how to reclaim your identity as an artist or writer if you've lost it or you're struggling to claim it.
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by Jenna | Jul 31, 2013 | Writing Articles
Something that’s helped me when taking on a longer writing project is understanding the natural ups and downs of the writing process. Now when I know I’m in an “up” or a “down”, I don’t take either one too seriously and just forge ahead.
But in the past, I’ve made the mistake of thinking that if I’m having a hard time or if I’ve “lost interest” in a project, that it means something about the project, like:
- It’s not the right project for me.
- I’ve blown it and I don’t know how to fix it.
- It’s time to ditch the project and move on to another one.
- I’m not capable of solving a particular problem or of finishing.
- The idea I started with wasn’t actually good enough.
Now that I’ve been through this process a few times, and I’ve worked with more than a few writers and observed them going through their own stages with their writing projects, I’ve come to see the experiences we have as natural patterns that are part of any project. And “getting” that I’m having a normal experience helps me make the decision not to take it too seriously and to continue on, even if I’m having a hard time with it.
The stages of a writing project
So let’s talk about these stages we go through, shall we?
Here’s what I’ve observed about the natural stages of a writing project. I’m sure they apply to ANY kind of creative or other resistance-triggering endeavor. If you have other stages you’ve recognized, please post them in the comments.
- The idea! — “Ooh! I have an idea for a project, this is great! I can’t wait to get started!”
- The joyful beginning — “Yay, I’m starting today, this is so exciting, this project is going to be amazing! It’ll be my best project yet!”
- The crash of reality — “Oh, wait, I really actually have to show up and do this now for real? Like every day? I don’t even know where to start or what happens next!”
- The commitment phase — “Okay, bit by bit, I can do this. I’ll figure it out. I can make this happen.”
- The dreaded middle — “Wait, what’s supposed to happen here? Where am I? What’s this about again? Why am I doing this?”
- The downhill side — “Okay, I’m past the midpoint, it’s all downhill from here, I can see the ending from here, I can make it!”
- The 80% mark — “This is so boring, I’ve lost interest in this project, I’m over it. I don’t even know why I was interesting in this idea in the first place. That other project sounds like so much more fun.”
- The recommitment moment — “I’m not falling for that, I can do this, it’s not that much longer, I’m not falling for that Bright Shiny Object (the other project), I’m going to keep going.”
- The almost to the bitter end stage — “This is terrible. What was I thinking?”
- The last push — “I just gotta get to the end, then I can see what I have.”
- The end — “I made it! This was so worth it.”
And then, of course, we start all over again.
Notice the creative blocks
What’s particularly useful about this is noticing how creative blocks like perfectionsim (“This’ll be my best project yet!”) and apathy (“I’m over it.”) can show up. They are resistance in disguise. The key is not to fall for them, but to keep going until you get to the end. THAT is the time to evaluate what you have and decide what happens next with it.
An epidemic of incompletion?
I see an epidemic of not finishing all around me. Perhaps it has to do with the short-term gratification culture we’re raised in these days (a favorite quote from Carrie Fisher, “Instant gratification takes too long!”).
What I know is that personal strength, self-confidence, and self-worth is deeply grounded in commitment, doing the work, and making the hard choices.
Warmly,
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by Jenna | Jul 3, 2013 | Guest Posts
One of the struggles writers often face is the fear that comes up around sharing the truth through our work. It might be the truth about what we think or about who we are. Or perhaps it is about actual experiences we've lived, like those we might share in a memoir.
I've talked to so many writers who are afraid of what will happen when they tell their personal stories or write their memoirs. Fears about hurting people we care about, fears of being rejected or disliked for speaking the truth. These fears can become real impediments to seeing the project through to completion -- and sometimes to even starting it at all!
When Mary Montanye joined my writing community on a colleague's recommendation, she was almost done with her memoir -- but not quite. She was feeling stuck around moving to the final completion point with the project -- a tough moment for any writer -- particularly because her memoir would set some deep and personal truths free into the world. We were proud to help her cross that finish line with the support of our writing community.
I asked Mary to share with us about her experience of completing her memoir and of participating in the writing community.
Perhaps you will be inspired by her story to complete your memoir also. :)
Mary, welcome and thanks for being here.
First, let's talk about your accomplishment — finishing your memoir! You joined the community and finished your memoir in your first session, right? What was that like for you?
I did finish it in my first 4-week session. I was very close to the end when I joined the community. I had been working with a published memoirist/writing coach/teacher for quite a few years and had learned how to write a memoir. She’d helped me dive deep, find the truth and the emotion beneath the “facts” of what had happened. This was good and it made for a meaningful story. However, because I was sharing my truth and some lifelong secrets, I also found it very difficult to push through to the end. Regardless of how often I was told that I didn’t have to “put it out there” if I didn’t want to, I knew the next step after finishing a piece of work was trying to get it published or, if nothing else, to share it with family and friends. This terrified me and, as I closed in on the finish, stopped my writing altogether. Getting over this hump and writing "The End" on the final draft felt great! I have to say this was a highlight of my life.
How long had you been working on the memoir prior to joining the community? In what way did the community help you get over the hump to completing it?
I’d been working on the memoir off and on for five years before joining the community. It provided not only accountability and structure but also a connection to other writers who were putting aside their fears to do what they felt called to do. My writing teacher did provide accountability, but her function was to help me become a better writer. Sometimes when you’re always looking to improve, you never get to the place where you can declare something done, especially when you're afraid to declare a piece done, as I was.
What can you tell us about yourself and about the focus of the memoir?
When my husband and I were living and working in Orange County, CA, I bought -- on the spur of the moment and by myself -- a cabin in a mountain canyon in Colorado. My grandmother had lived in that same canyon when I was a child and I had fond memories of it. That action changed not only my life, but my husband's and my mother's lives. The memoir is based on that. How we all got to the point of living in this beautiful mountain canyon and how it affected our relationships with one another. It is also a story of healing from physical illness and childhood abuse.
How did you find out about the writing community and what inspired you to join us?
I was taking an online class — not sure which one it was now — when one of the other participants mentioned you, Jenna. She loved your newsletters and commented that she was learning a lot from you. I checked out your website, was very impressed, noticed that another writing community session was about to begin, and decided to join. I was feeling stuck in the memoir, but had decided it was time to stop working with my writing coach. I was ready to go out on my own, so to speak, and liked the idea of connecting with a group for accountability. Because I travel a great deal, it was important that the group meet online. First, I signed up for one session to see how I liked it. I am now on my second 4-month round. I liked it a great deal!
What have you learned about your writing process?
I learned that, personally, I need structure and accountability. I’ve always been the type of person who follows through with her commitments. If I declare to the group that I am going to participate in a sprint or be on a coaching or welcome call or write for half hour that day, then it’s likely I’ll do it. The community gives me a place for that kind of accountability. And the community gives me a connection to other writers and coaches who are writers themselves so I don’t feel so alone or unique in my creative struggles. I also discovered that there is an ebb and flow to my creative output. Jenna, her coaches, and the other writers in my small group accept that and honor it. This has normalized for me my way of creating and how my day-to-day life can affect my writing.
What were the biggest challenges you faced before joining? Have they changed? What's different now about your writing habit?
The biggest challenges I faced before joining the writing community were (a) believing that my desire to write was not a valid reason to give it time; and (b) that I was a writer at all! Both these challenges disappeared almost completely in the first month, and that’s pretty amazing given that I’ve held onto those opinions for most of my life. Before joining the community, I would go long periods without working on the memoir. During those periods, I struggled with depression because I wanted to write but was always talking myself out of it. I know it sounds strange, but that’s what was going on with me. Participating in the community gave me a reason to show up to the page and for me, that’s huge. Once I’m actually writing all the excuses and fears fall away for a bit and I know I’m in the right place doing what I need and want to do. These days I rarely miss a day when I’m not writing something and therefore I am also much happier.
What advice do you have for other writers?
My advice to other writers is: Don’t underestimate your desire to write. If you have that desire this is something you are supposed to be doing. I compare it to singing for me. I have absolutely NO desire to sing in a band or a choir or even alone in the shower and that’s a good thing, because I also have absolutely NO talent for it! I believe we are given desire to accompany the talents we have. This isn’t to say that there won’t be times when we won’t want to write. Jenna, her coaches and the other participants of the community have shown me this happens to all of us at one time or another. Still, we return to the work because that’s who we are -- writers.
What’s next for you and your writing?
I’m not sure what’s next for me. I still haven’t decided whether or not I’ll publish the memoir. I think I might publish a small printing through a self-publishing venue and let my friends and families read it. Then, after their input, I’ll decide if I want to try to market it. But I do know I will stay on in the community (I’ve just committed to another four sessions) because they are my people and my life feels fuller when I’m connected to them. And I’ll keep writing … whatever it is I feel to write on any given day.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?
I’d like to add that I truly believe that we need to be doing what we feel called to do and to find whatever help we need in order to do it. If we do so, we will be happier people and therefore so will our families, friends and communities. There IS time. Whether or not our work is ever published is not the point. The point is that as writers, we write.
Thank you, Mary!
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