I'm going to really miss eating alone. The loneliness that I felt at the beginning of summer in the my first few days of moving to Westwood have come around full circle, and now I find myself really longing for more of the solitude and familiar routine that has reigned over these past few months.
One of my worst, more irrational, fears when I was younger was of eating alone. There are too many negative stereotypes about people who dine in public alone - either they are social outcasts or they are somehow incapable of carrying out normal tableside conversation. Or they have some sort of gross deformity that repels even the most understanding of dining buddies.
None of these are really true, though, because people who are able to venture out and eat on their own in public have to be pretty dang comfortable in their own skin to do so.
Either that, or they have to quickly become comfortable.
Over the summer, every lunch break would be a mental and physical break from hours upon hours of talking, listening, writing, planning – exercising my journalistic prowess, if you will. I’d grab a pen and paper and just write – freeform, stream-of-conscience poems, blurbs, thoughts, stories, as I munched on a wrap or stabbed at some salad.
The first day I did this as a form of security, because I didn’t want to attract sympathy for my dining alone even if I had done it by choice. I wanted to get over this irrational fear of mine. But over the weeks, turning down lunch invitations didn’t feel so bad anymore – I rather looked forward to having a meal by myself and being able to gather my thoughts in an hour away from work, home, or obligations. I felt at ease in my solitude.
Friday was my last day at the Daily News, and I'm really going to miss working there. The features department has become my journalism family, and they've adopted me as one of their own, which is flattering. I'll miss Sandra's advice, Rob's sarcastic quips, Sharyn's blunt observations, even Simone's long, drawn-out stories about interviewing John Cusack and Dave Matthews.
I think that it was honestly very rare and lucky for me to stumble into such a nurturing work environment. My editors came off as cold and calculated in the beginning, but I've since learned that just because they aren't overly, fakely happy to see me all the time doesn't mean that they dislike me. In fact, I really appreciate the way they treat me like a real human being, as opposed to a golden intern spouting hope and naivety. They’re realistic and down-to-earth and so much what I needed to get my head back in the journalistic game.
Their quiet approval and support throughout the summer really helped me to move out of my comfort zone and learn to be more proactive in my quest for the story. If I wanted to cover an event or issue, I had to speak up. If I was unsure of what to do in a given situation, I had to speak up. Nothing came easy, and they intended it to be that way. You get what you give, and sometimes more if you’re lucky.
I got lucky.
I learned as I wrote, and really discovered what I was capable of doing as a journalist and as a writer. Simply being genuinely interested in a person and having good follow-through opened doors in ways that being pushy and condescending probably could not. Understanding and empathy made reporting a joy rather than a burden. Telling stories in intricate new ways was a challenge I loved to meet.
This is what I’m meant to do with the rest of my life, I’m pretty certain.
Well, maybe.
Don’t know how long this certainty will last, though, but I can say this: even in the face of a dying journalism industry, I think there’s still a place at the table for me. I hope there is.
Even if it means dining alone out in the real world, because at least I’ll have my thoughts to keep me company.
31 August 2008
27 August 2008
Greedy Much?
I think I'm being greedy. It's only the third day of class and already I can feel that I just might burn out this semester with all the activities and commitments and jobs I'm trying to juggle. The horrible part of the whole situation isn't the being busy, though. In actuality, the real harsh realization is that I might be overly busy for all the wrong reasons.
My friend brought up a really good point the other day. When I was trying to justify to him my taking on so many different responsibilities, he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if it might just be that I'm being selfish.
I was taken aback and it must have shown on my face because he quickly explained that he didn't mean it in a good or bad way, just as a statement of fact. Greediness is tied to "want" and "need," and in my case, I "want" to do too much and I "need" to stay busy, two facts that will probably lead to much unavoidable stress later on down the line. I think maybe I'm too caught up in the idea that I need to cram all of these things into my senior year, when really, I need to take a step back (maybe two) and drop a few commitments.
The only thing is, all of the things I decided to get involved in this year are so important to me...so is that being selfish? I'm grabbing for too much and maybe that's just wrong because I'll turn up with nothing. If these first three days have been any indication, I'm not going to have much time for myself - and is that in itself being selfish?
At this year's APASS student welcome, a lot of the incoming freshmen were asking for advice about time management and I almost wanted to laugh. I told them it was okay to say "no" to organizations and "no" to commitments and to make sure that their own sanity came first. To take care of themselves before helping others, just so that they would be able to contribute themselves 100% to the project at hand. I told them to prioritize and eliminate unnecessary stressors.
I need to take my own advice. Badly.
It's such a strange line to walk upon, balancing my needs with what I perceive to be other people's needs. When you know your loved ones and friends are depending on you, it's hard to turn your back just because you need to take care of YOU.
My friend brought up a really good point the other day. When I was trying to justify to him my taking on so many different responsibilities, he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if it might just be that I'm being selfish.
I was taken aback and it must have shown on my face because he quickly explained that he didn't mean it in a good or bad way, just as a statement of fact. Greediness is tied to "want" and "need," and in my case, I "want" to do too much and I "need" to stay busy, two facts that will probably lead to much unavoidable stress later on down the line. I think maybe I'm too caught up in the idea that I need to cram all of these things into my senior year, when really, I need to take a step back (maybe two) and drop a few commitments.
The only thing is, all of the things I decided to get involved in this year are so important to me...so is that being selfish? I'm grabbing for too much and maybe that's just wrong because I'll turn up with nothing. If these first three days have been any indication, I'm not going to have much time for myself - and is that in itself being selfish?
At this year's APASS student welcome, a lot of the incoming freshmen were asking for advice about time management and I almost wanted to laugh. I told them it was okay to say "no" to organizations and "no" to commitments and to make sure that their own sanity came first. To take care of themselves before helping others, just so that they would be able to contribute themselves 100% to the project at hand. I told them to prioritize and eliminate unnecessary stressors.
I need to take my own advice. Badly.
It's such a strange line to walk upon, balancing my needs with what I perceive to be other people's needs. When you know your loved ones and friends are depending on you, it's hard to turn your back just because you need to take care of YOU.
19 August 2008
Ridiculous, self-inflicted busyness
Have you ever been so busy that you literally didn't even know where to begin to tackle your enormous pile of THINGS TO DO?
I'm at that point right now, and am obviously not helping myself by posting instead of working. But I'll consider this stress relief of sorts, har har.
Am in the midst of packing up to move-in for my senior year, and I just can't seem to finish. Am thinking about everything I'll need to do within the next 24 hours - start and finish the layout for an entire issue of a student publication, finish a story for my internship, show my friend around LA, interview several people, and settle into a new apartment.
Haven't had time to breathe in a while, but this busyness IS self induced, so don't feel as though I can really complain. Oy soy.
...this is so ridiculous that all I can do is sit here and eat mochi ice cream by the box. This can't be healthy.
I'm at that point right now, and am obviously not helping myself by posting instead of working. But I'll consider this stress relief of sorts, har har.
Am in the midst of packing up to move-in for my senior year, and I just can't seem to finish. Am thinking about everything I'll need to do within the next 24 hours - start and finish the layout for an entire issue of a student publication, finish a story for my internship, show my friend around LA, interview several people, and settle into a new apartment.
Haven't had time to breathe in a while, but this busyness IS self induced, so don't feel as though I can really complain. Oy soy.
...this is so ridiculous that all I can do is sit here and eat mochi ice cream by the box. This can't be healthy.
15 August 2008
Change Change Change
Constant change.
It’s a term I’ve heard countless times before, but it’s also one that I never really deemed relevant to my own life – up until now. It’s not so much the actual concept of continuous change that’s foreign to me. Rather, it’s the juxtaposition of the two words – seemingly opposites – that didn’t really make sense to me until recently.
I’ve been busy these past few weeks with balancing work and my personal life – it’s amazing (and disheartening) to see just how easily the bolstering of one so often comes at the cost of the other. Not to say that having both is impossible, just that it’s a lot harder now more than ever to find a happy medium between the two. Being on the brink of the “real world” means having to distinguish between possible and impossible aspirations.
It means having to choose which goals to pursue, and which to abandon as pipe dreams.
It means having to keep up with the constantly shifting dynamics of life and rolling with the punches.
It means, in short, sacrifice.
Constant.
“So she’s an organic farmer now,” she says between mouthfuls of sandwich. She grabs at a napkin on the wooden desk between us, absent-mindedly brushing a few wayward crumbs from the side of her mouth. She’s having a PB&J sandwich on rye, same as yesterday and the day before that. Not because it’s her favourite, but because it’s quicker to make the same sandwich for her and Sophie each morning than to pick and choose ingredients when she’s rushing out the door. When you have a four-year-old, convenience always outweighs taste.
“Who?”
I turn from the computer screen, finally pulling my eyes away from the blinking text cursor that had been taunting me for the past 20 minutes. My writer’s block isn’t going anywhere, and neither, apparently, is my story. I can afford to spare five minutes away from assignment, and maybe even keep my sanity while I’m at it.
“My friend Becky,” she says patiently. “She’s always loved farming, so when she found out they were downsizing at the Times, she beat them to the punch and quit. To become an organic farmer.”
She repeats this last part because it’s just that important. She takes another bite of sandwich before continuing. It’s almost as though she thinks clearer when she talks around her food.
“She says she was floating. She didn’t know where journalism was going to take her, so she decided to pursue the one passion she’s always had in her life – farming.”
“And she’s happy?”
It seems like a silly question, because if her friend had given up a degree, a semi-stable career and the modest income that came with it, she must be happy. She had sacrificed what appeared on the surface to be certainty for what was, in actuality, more definite than anything else in her life – her first love: farming.
“Yep, she’s more than happy. She figured that working day in and day out at a job that only semi-fulfilled her just wasn’t going to cut it. Life is too short. You look for the things that really get you and grab all your attention and you go toward them. Think about what you always find yourself drawn to, your constants, and you’ll find a way to make it work.”
Being a journalist means sacrificing sleep, family time, personal time, and perhaps most importantly, a bit of your sanity. No two days are ever the same, but in the whirlwind of responsibility and reporting that is journalism, there is always that one constant: passion. Or at least, this is what I hope.
Change.
“The market’s horrible right now,” he says, leaning back in his tall leather chair, stretching his arms up and out in feign relaxation. I don’t envy him these days. What used to be a pretty steady, reliable career has now become little more than a waiting game – play with numbers and hope that your company makes it out on top to see another day. Each day is another round of Russian roulette, and the stress of it all is obviously taking its toll.
His health is waning, the bags under his eyes more pronounced, his entire demeanor more ragged. Nothing is certain except that nothing is certain. The stocks do their daily dance and bankers everywhere can only watch helplessly.
“So you should switch out, try your hand at something different if it’s so stressful,” I offer.
“Nah, it’s not that horrible…yet,” he laughs. “For now, the unpredictability’s kind of exhilarating, it makes work exciting. I mean, it used to be that every day was exactly the same – no risks, just plugging away at numbers. Now….now there’s something at stake. My job. Everything I do counts.”
Constant change.
So if this is the case, then maybe it isn’t consistency or change that fuels people who are stuck in otherwise chaotic or stagnant jobs, respectively. Maybe it’s just knowing that, at the end of the day, you can count on tomorrow being as unpredictable as today. Maybe knowing that you need to be on edge all the time is the key to happiness in a career.
Maybe.
At the risk of sounding cliché (who am I kidding – I only write in clichés…), change is inevitable. But now I know that trying to establish a healthy balancing act between past and present, personal and public, is actually not only inevitable, but healthy as well. Life is all about change and adjustment and advancement, and the moment you stop learning is really the moment you stop living.
Constant. Change.
It’s a term I’ve heard countless times before, but it’s also one that I never really deemed relevant to my own life – up until now. It’s not so much the actual concept of continuous change that’s foreign to me. Rather, it’s the juxtaposition of the two words – seemingly opposites – that didn’t really make sense to me until recently.
I’ve been busy these past few weeks with balancing work and my personal life – it’s amazing (and disheartening) to see just how easily the bolstering of one so often comes at the cost of the other. Not to say that having both is impossible, just that it’s a lot harder now more than ever to find a happy medium between the two. Being on the brink of the “real world” means having to distinguish between possible and impossible aspirations.
It means having to choose which goals to pursue, and which to abandon as pipe dreams.
It means having to keep up with the constantly shifting dynamics of life and rolling with the punches.
It means, in short, sacrifice.
Constant.
“So she’s an organic farmer now,” she says between mouthfuls of sandwich. She grabs at a napkin on the wooden desk between us, absent-mindedly brushing a few wayward crumbs from the side of her mouth. She’s having a PB&J sandwich on rye, same as yesterday and the day before that. Not because it’s her favourite, but because it’s quicker to make the same sandwich for her and Sophie each morning than to pick and choose ingredients when she’s rushing out the door. When you have a four-year-old, convenience always outweighs taste.
“Who?”
I turn from the computer screen, finally pulling my eyes away from the blinking text cursor that had been taunting me for the past 20 minutes. My writer’s block isn’t going anywhere, and neither, apparently, is my story. I can afford to spare five minutes away from assignment, and maybe even keep my sanity while I’m at it.
“My friend Becky,” she says patiently. “She’s always loved farming, so when she found out they were downsizing at the Times, she beat them to the punch and quit. To become an organic farmer.”
She repeats this last part because it’s just that important. She takes another bite of sandwich before continuing. It’s almost as though she thinks clearer when she talks around her food.
“She says she was floating. She didn’t know where journalism was going to take her, so she decided to pursue the one passion she’s always had in her life – farming.”
“And she’s happy?”
It seems like a silly question, because if her friend had given up a degree, a semi-stable career and the modest income that came with it, she must be happy. She had sacrificed what appeared on the surface to be certainty for what was, in actuality, more definite than anything else in her life – her first love: farming.
“Yep, she’s more than happy. She figured that working day in and day out at a job that only semi-fulfilled her just wasn’t going to cut it. Life is too short. You look for the things that really get you and grab all your attention and you go toward them. Think about what you always find yourself drawn to, your constants, and you’ll find a way to make it work.”
Being a journalist means sacrificing sleep, family time, personal time, and perhaps most importantly, a bit of your sanity. No two days are ever the same, but in the whirlwind of responsibility and reporting that is journalism, there is always that one constant: passion. Or at least, this is what I hope.
Change.
“The market’s horrible right now,” he says, leaning back in his tall leather chair, stretching his arms up and out in feign relaxation. I don’t envy him these days. What used to be a pretty steady, reliable career has now become little more than a waiting game – play with numbers and hope that your company makes it out on top to see another day. Each day is another round of Russian roulette, and the stress of it all is obviously taking its toll.
His health is waning, the bags under his eyes more pronounced, his entire demeanor more ragged. Nothing is certain except that nothing is certain. The stocks do their daily dance and bankers everywhere can only watch helplessly.
“So you should switch out, try your hand at something different if it’s so stressful,” I offer.
“Nah, it’s not that horrible…yet,” he laughs. “For now, the unpredictability’s kind of exhilarating, it makes work exciting. I mean, it used to be that every day was exactly the same – no risks, just plugging away at numbers. Now….now there’s something at stake. My job. Everything I do counts.”
Constant change.
So if this is the case, then maybe it isn’t consistency or change that fuels people who are stuck in otherwise chaotic or stagnant jobs, respectively. Maybe it’s just knowing that, at the end of the day, you can count on tomorrow being as unpredictable as today. Maybe knowing that you need to be on edge all the time is the key to happiness in a career.
Maybe.
At the risk of sounding cliché (who am I kidding – I only write in clichés…), change is inevitable. But now I know that trying to establish a healthy balancing act between past and present, personal and public, is actually not only inevitable, but healthy as well. Life is all about change and adjustment and advancement, and the moment you stop learning is really the moment you stop living.
Constant. Change.
Food for Thought
Came across this post on the New York Times "The Graduates" blog and really liked it, just thought I would share. It's well-written and brings up a really good point. I'm inspired.
*****
April 19, 2007, 5:39 pm
Good for Goodness’ Sake
By Missy Kurzweil
Most details of my high school graduation are hazy in my memory, but I distinctly remember one speech given by a member of the school board. He turned his back to us seniors onstage and faced our parents in the audience.
“If you had to send your kids off to college with only one of the following nuggets of wisdom,” he asked them, “which would you choose: Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?”
I can’t recall his purpose for raising the question, but I vividly remember my mother’s response. On the car ride home from the ceremony, I asked her which tidbit she would impart to me as I left for college. She paused for a moment and then said confidently, “I’d tell you to be good.”
Her choice was curious to me at the time. Happiness and success are the stuff of life, I thought – the things that every parent wants for his or her child. I didn’t understand how she could so easily subordinate those two to being “good.”
Then Mom explained her reasoning. Happiness and success are important, she said, but she knew I’d strive for those things without being reminded to. Being good, on the other hand, wouldn’t always come as naturally.She was right. In college, I pursued success and happiness of my own accord. I pushed for competitive internships and worked hard in my classes to succeed. I sought satisfying friendships and hit up the best parties to ensure I’d have the happiest college experience possible. Being good, however, was not always as instinctive and rarely proved to be the easiest thing to pursue. Making time to give back to the community was difficult. Searching for recycling bins was infinitely more annoying than throwing away my bottles. Telling my professor the truth about my tardy paper was much scarier than claiming to be sick.
As my mother predicted, morality has been the only one of those nuggets of wisdom that required a constant reminder.
Four years later, we graduate again. The question is the same, but this time it applies to us, not our parents. Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?
It’s clear that today’s graduates are fixated on achieving their own definitions of happiness and success. We want to thrive in the workplace and find careers that we love. And why shouldn’t we? But being good while we pursue those endeavors deserves – perhaps requires – a special reminder.
Even if the nature of our jobs isn’t selfless – if we’re bankers, lawyers, writers or advertisers – we all will face opportunities to be good, or to create good, at some point. We just need to embrace those moments.
My friend Harris always wanted to become a businessman. He received his M.B.A. right after college and pursued a finance job at a large corporate firm. After five years of building his resume and networking, he founded Giftback.com, a gift-ordering Web site that donates 10 percent of every purchase to a charity of the consumer’s choice. The business is thriving, and Harris says he has never been happier.
Another example comes from my friend’s dad, Fred, who graduated from college without much direction. He thought about becoming a teacher, but feared that the salary could not support a family in New York. He eventually decided to go to law school and practice corporate law. At the age of 50, once his practice was established, Fred developed a mentoring program called Lawyers Involved in Kids’ Education (LIKE), which pairs lawyers in his firm with children at a local public school. Fred enjoys his work as a lawyer, but admits that this program is what really makes him come alive.
Our methods of charity may come in the form of being a good friend, child, roommate or coworker. If my college experience is at all indicative of the future, though, being honest or selfless in these roles won’t always come easily or intuitively.
Like Fred, most of us will graduate without a definite plan. We have yet to discover precisely what makes us happy, or exactly how we want to succeed. But if we keep in mind that third admonition – “be good” – we may inadvertently stumble upon happiness and success along the way.
*****
Link to original article here. Real posts to come soon. On a regular basis. For serious.
*****
April 19, 2007, 5:39 pm
Good for Goodness’ Sake
By Missy Kurzweil
Most details of my high school graduation are hazy in my memory, but I distinctly remember one speech given by a member of the school board. He turned his back to us seniors onstage and faced our parents in the audience.
“If you had to send your kids off to college with only one of the following nuggets of wisdom,” he asked them, “which would you choose: Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?”
I can’t recall his purpose for raising the question, but I vividly remember my mother’s response. On the car ride home from the ceremony, I asked her which tidbit she would impart to me as I left for college. She paused for a moment and then said confidently, “I’d tell you to be good.”
Her choice was curious to me at the time. Happiness and success are the stuff of life, I thought – the things that every parent wants for his or her child. I didn’t understand how she could so easily subordinate those two to being “good.”
Then Mom explained her reasoning. Happiness and success are important, she said, but she knew I’d strive for those things without being reminded to. Being good, on the other hand, wouldn’t always come as naturally.She was right. In college, I pursued success and happiness of my own accord. I pushed for competitive internships and worked hard in my classes to succeed. I sought satisfying friendships and hit up the best parties to ensure I’d have the happiest college experience possible. Being good, however, was not always as instinctive and rarely proved to be the easiest thing to pursue. Making time to give back to the community was difficult. Searching for recycling bins was infinitely more annoying than throwing away my bottles. Telling my professor the truth about my tardy paper was much scarier than claiming to be sick.
As my mother predicted, morality has been the only one of those nuggets of wisdom that required a constant reminder.
Four years later, we graduate again. The question is the same, but this time it applies to us, not our parents. Be successful? Be happy? Or be good?
It’s clear that today’s graduates are fixated on achieving their own definitions of happiness and success. We want to thrive in the workplace and find careers that we love. And why shouldn’t we? But being good while we pursue those endeavors deserves – perhaps requires – a special reminder.
Even if the nature of our jobs isn’t selfless – if we’re bankers, lawyers, writers or advertisers – we all will face opportunities to be good, or to create good, at some point. We just need to embrace those moments.
My friend Harris always wanted to become a businessman. He received his M.B.A. right after college and pursued a finance job at a large corporate firm. After five years of building his resume and networking, he founded Giftback.com, a gift-ordering Web site that donates 10 percent of every purchase to a charity of the consumer’s choice. The business is thriving, and Harris says he has never been happier.
Another example comes from my friend’s dad, Fred, who graduated from college without much direction. He thought about becoming a teacher, but feared that the salary could not support a family in New York. He eventually decided to go to law school and practice corporate law. At the age of 50, once his practice was established, Fred developed a mentoring program called Lawyers Involved in Kids’ Education (LIKE), which pairs lawyers in his firm with children at a local public school. Fred enjoys his work as a lawyer, but admits that this program is what really makes him come alive.
Our methods of charity may come in the form of being a good friend, child, roommate or coworker. If my college experience is at all indicative of the future, though, being honest or selfless in these roles won’t always come easily or intuitively.
Like Fred, most of us will graduate without a definite plan. We have yet to discover precisely what makes us happy, or exactly how we want to succeed. But if we keep in mind that third admonition – “be good” – we may inadvertently stumble upon happiness and success along the way.
*****
Link to original article here. Real posts to come soon. On a regular basis. For serious.
10 August 2008
Post-its and Lists
If there's one thing I know all too well about myself, it's that I don't do multitasking. I've been blessed and cursed with what can best be dubbed a "one track mind."
It's not that I only have one thing on my mind at all times (i.e. What it means for guys to have a "one track mind"). In fact, I usually have 5 million thoughts racing through my head at any given moment. Rather, it’s more that I've trained myself to never divert my attention from the task at hand, for better or worse.
I cannot type and talk in multiple conversations; walk and eat at the same time; or perhaps most unforgivable, fully invest myself in a new project if I’m in the middle of another one. My mind just doesn’t have the capacity to work that way, har har.
But I’ve figured out recently that thinking this way works for me.
This is why I move through tasks relatively slowly, ensuring that everything is done to a certain degree of completion before even being able to think about the next step.
Or maybe that’s just the excuse I give myself for being so single-task-minded.
In reality, I think the truth is a lot simpler than that: Nothing makes me happier than crossing things off my never-ending to-do list.
My life is made up of post-its strewn throughout my room, spilling out of my notebooks, stuck carefully on the edge of my dashboard. I look at each day as a post-it, each part of my day filled with bulleted lists and checks and arrows – what’s the priority and what isn’t necessary? How can I break down the overwhelming flood of responsibilities into bite-size, manageable items on a list?
The method’s worked for me thus far, but I’ve been wondering recently if this is the best way to go about each day, working endlessly just to complete tasks but not necessarily enjoy them. So I’ve started adding other things to my lists, interspersing the need-to-do’s with the have-to-do’s (initially seem to be the same concept, but there IS a subtle difference between the two).
Need to do:
Finish scholarship applications.
Have to do:
Return personal emails and phone calls. Catch up with old friends.
Need to do:
Copy-edit incoming stories and return them to my writers.
Have to do:
Start pitching story ideas to begin freelancing.
Need to do:
Drop off laundry, pick up books, buy groceries, clean room, order tickets, write thank-you cards, wash the car, get my ish together.
Have to do:
Breathe.
My lists are getting more focused as I start to realize just where my priorities are. It’s all about balancing the personal with the professional, private with public, and I think I’ve struck a happy medium. Life’s been really good to me lately, and I’d like to think I can attribute this contentment to the new additions to my list.
My life story is written on a series of post-its, and I love it. It’s a form of temporary adherence – no permanence, just a few notes and reminders and a few scratches along the way to make sure my thoughts (and my ink!) are still flowing.
Forget about getting stuck in a rut or dwelling on the negative aspects of being “one track minded.” Living my life this way means that I literally only have to worry about one thing at a time, and if I have a bad day, I know I can paste over it tomorrow.
One list, one item, one step at a time.
It's not that I only have one thing on my mind at all times (i.e. What it means for guys to have a "one track mind"). In fact, I usually have 5 million thoughts racing through my head at any given moment. Rather, it’s more that I've trained myself to never divert my attention from the task at hand, for better or worse.
I cannot type and talk in multiple conversations; walk and eat at the same time; or perhaps most unforgivable, fully invest myself in a new project if I’m in the middle of another one. My mind just doesn’t have the capacity to work that way, har har.
But I’ve figured out recently that thinking this way works for me.
This is why I move through tasks relatively slowly, ensuring that everything is done to a certain degree of completion before even being able to think about the next step.
Or maybe that’s just the excuse I give myself for being so single-task-minded.
In reality, I think the truth is a lot simpler than that: Nothing makes me happier than crossing things off my never-ending to-do list.
My life is made up of post-its strewn throughout my room, spilling out of my notebooks, stuck carefully on the edge of my dashboard. I look at each day as a post-it, each part of my day filled with bulleted lists and checks and arrows – what’s the priority and what isn’t necessary? How can I break down the overwhelming flood of responsibilities into bite-size, manageable items on a list?
The method’s worked for me thus far, but I’ve been wondering recently if this is the best way to go about each day, working endlessly just to complete tasks but not necessarily enjoy them. So I’ve started adding other things to my lists, interspersing the need-to-do’s with the have-to-do’s (initially seem to be the same concept, but there IS a subtle difference between the two).
Need to do:
Finish scholarship applications.
Have to do:
Return personal emails and phone calls. Catch up with old friends.
Need to do:
Copy-edit incoming stories and return them to my writers.
Have to do:
Start pitching story ideas to begin freelancing.
Need to do:
Drop off laundry, pick up books, buy groceries, clean room, order tickets, write thank-you cards, wash the car, get my ish together.
Have to do:
Breathe.
My lists are getting more focused as I start to realize just where my priorities are. It’s all about balancing the personal with the professional, private with public, and I think I’ve struck a happy medium. Life’s been really good to me lately, and I’d like to think I can attribute this contentment to the new additions to my list.
My life story is written on a series of post-its, and I love it. It’s a form of temporary adherence – no permanence, just a few notes and reminders and a few scratches along the way to make sure my thoughts (and my ink!) are still flowing.
Forget about getting stuck in a rut or dwelling on the negative aspects of being “one track minded.” Living my life this way means that I literally only have to worry about one thing at a time, and if I have a bad day, I know I can paste over it tomorrow.
One list, one item, one step at a time.
05 August 2008
Ponder me this, ponder me that
"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."
"One measure of friendship consists not in the number of things friends can discuss, but in the number of things they need no longer mention."
"True friendship isn't about being there when it's convenient; it's about being there when it's not."
"The best way to waste your life, ...is by taking notes. The easiest way to avoid living is to just watch. Look for the details. Report. Don't participate."
“The unreal is more powerful than the real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend - they can go on and on.”
Just thought I'd share some quotes I kind of love, in lieu of an actual post. Will blog for reals starting tonight...must must must!
"One measure of friendship consists not in the number of things friends can discuss, but in the number of things they need no longer mention."
"True friendship isn't about being there when it's convenient; it's about being there when it's not."
"The best way to waste your life, ...is by taking notes. The easiest way to avoid living is to just watch. Look for the details. Report. Don't participate."
“The unreal is more powerful than the real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles. Wood rots. People, well, they die. But things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend - they can go on and on.”
Just thought I'd share some quotes I kind of love, in lieu of an actual post. Will blog for reals starting tonight...must must must!
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