I Do Declare: Adjusting expectations and pace does wonders for productivity

This is my preferred pace for novel writing.

This time last year I did a mid-year check-in proclaiming that the year was half over and it wasn’t anything close to what I thought it would be.

That was mostly because I didn’t foresee a worldwide pandemic and shutdown, which threw all my carefully laid plans into a whirlwind state.

This year it’s different. Mostly because I lowered my expectations. No, that’s not right. My expectations weren’t lowered – that would imply that my standards were lessened, and that’s not happening – as much as adjusted.

I used to have a massive to-do list with calendar pages filled in and check boxes next to each item, all of which were color-coded according to media, genre, and due date. I threw everything I had into getting those boxes checked, and I got frustrated if I didn’t meet the goals I’d set. I then would spend time trying to figure out how to get back on track. Back in the fast lane.

But after spending a year in a forced slow-down, I decided to revise the way I do things. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t immediate. There were lots of fits and starts and some aggravation along the way. But I finally came to “new and improved” methods for productivity.

Nowadays, I set my big-picture goals and work my system (butt in chair every day; finish what I started; write first, then edit) in a way that will get things accomplished. I found out that if I work the system, I’ll reach the goals.

I adjusted my pace too. Last year the plan was to hit the ground running, go at full pace, and get stuff done. Yeah, and we know how that went, don’t we? Screeching halt followed by a reassessment of … well, just about everything.

Over the course of the year, I slowed down – there was no alternative, really – and worked at a more determined pace. More focused. More deliberate.

Instead of pedal to the metal all the time, with my motor running even when I took breaks, I stopped the vehicle and took time to look around and take stock of where I was, where I wanted to be, and what I needed to do to get there.

Instead of go-go-go, it was look-ponder-plan. And that felt good. So much better than the frantic pace I’d been on before.

All that said, what have this different pace and adjusted expectations helped me accomplish?

  • A book deal
  • A screenplay that tied for 1st runner up in a prestigious competition
  • A line of journal books into production
  • A line of crafts into production
  • More clarity in my work and my plans
  • A calmer mind and spirit
  • A consistently better mood

That last bullet point is reason enough to consider changing how to go about getting things done.

I’m glad I did.

I Do Declare: Summer is upon us and growth is everywhere

Tomato growth is a piece of cake compared to personal growth.

Yesterday was the Summer Solstice – the first day of Summer, the longest day (in daylight hours) of the year – and once again I’m reminded of the song “Turn” by the Byrds, which starts this way:

To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn

I delved into this in a previous post, noting some of the eternal truths about the passing of time: namely, that it’s fleeting, that the current state (whether good or bad) shall pass eventually, that there’s a season for everything.

Seasons change. But while they’re here, they have something to teach us.

In the Summer season, it’s all about growth.

This season is when the corn stalks get taller, the watermelons get fatter, and most produce (the seasonal crop, anyway) is ready to be picked.

The seeds that were planted weeks or months ago have grown into the fruits and vegetables and flowers that we enjoy now.

Of course, it wasn’t instantaneous. A lot happens between seed in the ground and tomato on the vine. Cultivating. Planting. Fertilizing. Weeding. Some seeds don’t make it and you try again. Because the growth is worth it.

I love the Summer analogy applied to life. I find it fascinating to ponder the moments I’ve spent cultivating relationships and opportunities, watching seeds of ideas come to fruition, laboring over fertilizing the good and enduring the painful weeding out of the bad.

Just like the berries and cucumbers and roses and tomatoes and gardenias and squash and hydrangeas I’ve been tending lately, the meticulous efforts of growth in my life are a lot of work. But so worth it.