One big thing
Why is it that the more I plan to do, the less I do at all?
Do only one big thing a day and do it well. Just paint. Just read. Just make that one thing. Anything else ‘big’ is for tomorrow.
It’s ultimately—paradoxically—more productive. The days are more focussed which means works is less fragmented which means the work is higher quality and done at a faster pace.
Then there’s breathing room. Don’t get me started on breathing room. The whole “I’ve got a million things on my plate today” that turns into inevitable disappointment. Do get me started on the void created by only doing one big thing. The void that becomes the playground for spontaneity and wonder. And wander.
Two pieces of paper
Why do I write better on paper? Is it that I’m a finely-trained ferret when in front of the machine, jumping from window to window? Why have I used exclusively pencil for the last few months? Why was that photography exhibition so much more enthralling than the online version?
Go analogue. Go pencil. Go ride your bike across town to see a thing that you can also see from your computer at home.
Why do I feel more fear-of-missing-out when I’ve never been more connected? Why is it so overwhelming to choose which information, resource, or online material I should explore? Since when is making the hard part?
Getting the intel used to be the hard part. Now that’s the overwhelming part. It’s the distracting part. It’s the part that gets you making and then interrupts with the next cool thing.
Make a system. Trust the system. Make note of the next cool thing in the system, but make nothing more of it (for now). Make one thing at a time from the system. Groom that system.