Category: Behavior And Habits

Eliminate the Thinking

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

One of my goals is to find a way to minimize the amount of thinking I have to do about any particular subject. My brain is really addicted to thinking. It’s one of its favorite things to do.

But there’s a certain amount of useless thinking that happens about things that don’t need as much brain time on them. For example, thinking every single day about when I’m going to exercise and what type of exercise I’m going to do takes away brain space from thinking about other things.

If I wake up in the morning and I avoid a workout, then I’ve just added that to-do into the docket of things for my brain to ruminate about:

I ask myself at 11am: will you workout now? Okay, there’s a class at 12-noon. But wait — you have a call at 1pm. So later? Yeah, maybe 3pm? Oh, but I just ate. So let’s go at 5pm? Oof, yeah, I’m tired. Damnit. I missed today. Maybe tomorrow.

There are things worth spending brain energy on and things not worth spending brain energy on.

Thinking every day (every day!) about when I’m going to work out is not something that I want to dedicate time to.

All it does it take away brain space from thinking about other things. I want—I crave—this time to go deep into writing. To work on the next chapter of my book. To carve away the mental clutter and focus on work that matters.

And if that is what I truly want, then I need to ruthlessly eliminate all of these other, unnecessary, periods of thinking.

So for workouts, as an example, I have a very boring schedule that I stick to (which I’ll write about another time). It’s dreadfully boring for my vata-type, eager-to-think, overworking mind. There’s no excitement in planning and dreaming and scheming about fancy workouts, and this is by design. I need to reel in my analytical mind and give it different puzzles to focus on.

The schedule is what will let me actually succeed.

When I don’t schedule my workouts, I only end up exercising 2-3 times per week.

When I stick to the schedule, I end up going 3-6 times per week. There’s a very clear advantage to the boring routine.

The criteria for the schedule has to be:

  • So easy I don’t have to think about it
  • Incredibly simple to remember
  • Harder to not do than to do
  • Start as small as possible
  • Ideally linked to some behavior or habit I already do.

With exercise, here’s what this looks like as an example:

I drop my kid off at daycare every day. Same time, same place, gotta do it. (Make it linked to an existing behavior).

So I put my sneakers and pants on, and every day after I drop him off, I exercise. (Wednesdays are my break day: I do this weekdays Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday.)

It’s easier to get to the park and exercise when I’m already in my clothes and I’ve already left the house. (Make it so easy I don’t have to think about it.)

I do it every day. (Harder to not do than to do.)

When I first started that schedule, I only did it for 15 minutes each time.(Start as small as possible.)

Don’t think, just do.

When I think about exercising, all I’m doing is thinking about exercising.

When I set up a habit and a routine that’s simple enough to do the same way every time, I spend more time exercising than thinking.

Eliminate the thinking wherever you can.

How might this apply to other areas of your life? Leave a note in the comments below.

Change It Up

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

If you’re not getting the results you want, try something new.

If the way you’re currently working isn’t getting the results you want, you either need to stay the course a little bit longer (see: The Dip, or “Follow One Course Until Successful”), or you need to try a new way of working.

If the exercise routine isn’t getting you the results that you want, you might need a new exercise routine.

If your pattern of writing isn’t giving you the results you want, you might need to try new systems.

If working alone isn’t getting you to your highest self, perhaps working alongside other people or starting a mastermind accountability group would change things.

Change it up when it’s not working.

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What’s your routine? What are your habits and ways of being? Leave a note in the comments below, or write a post about your own routine.

This post is part of the Monthly Writing Prompts — check out October’s theme, here or get the monthly writing prompts in your inbox by signing up for the newsletter, here.

Don’t Use The Full Hour

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Most of our default settings look to the top of the clock to start anything.

Meetings go for an hour. We block off time for our commitments in hour-long chunks. Even exercise gets its own hour, even if we actually only do 10 minutes of it.

If you think of time in hour-long chunks, you only have so many hours.

Look up at the clock, it’s 12:34pm. Are you waiting until 1:00pm to start the next meeting or task?

Instead of expanding your thinking to fill up each hour, how can you whittle down tasks to take 5 minutes, 10 minutes, or 7 minutes?

Some experiments worth trying:

  • A daily workout could take as little as 7 minutes.
  • Writing a blog post can be done in 10 minutes. Set the timer.
  • Meetings can start at 11:05am, or 11:10am, and run for only 10 minutes. (Occasionally I like to schedule phone calls to start at odd intervals to see how people are with punctuality).
  • My husband likes to do pushups every time the printer runs. It’s only 60 seconds a few times per day, but it adds up to a lot of pushups.

If you’re not getting it done because you don’t have enough time; why not make less time available for it?

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What’s your routine? What are your habits and ways of being? Leave a note in the comments below, or write a post about your own routine.
This post is part of the Monthly Writing Prompts — check out October’s theme, here or get the monthly writing prompts in your inbox by signing up for the newsletter, here.

Routine

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Every night, after a day’s worth of pumping milk for my baby, my husband takes the pump from my hands and washes it out in the sink with the special brush.

He shakes it dry, clean, ready for the next day. He says it’s one of the ways he can help with this job that is so much mine. It’s our routine. I pump, he cleans it up. We tuck into bed.

Every morning, after I drop the baby at daycare, I exercise. First things first. I take care of my body. Leo and I walk down the sidewalks by the park and we buzz into the daycare center. I smile and wave at him and he babbles at the daycare ladies. Morning, baby, daycare, exercise.

It’s the routine.

On the weekends, we try to make a stew in the Fall on Sundays. Leo is currently napping, I’m in flannel, writing, and Alex is in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables for a fall stew. We got one creuset deep pot at our wedding as a gift from one of Alex’s mentors, and the blue pot has been filled with stews and soups and creamy vegetables more times than we can count. We fill the pot with a stew and eat out of it as the week goes by. It feeds us and it fuels us.

We enjoy the variation and we sink into the routine.

A routine is a sequence of actions, regularly followed. It can be a routine that you follow in a dance (like a tap routine), or a series of steps you perform as part of a program. It’s often done on the regular, rather than as a special occasion.

“He settled down into his routine of writing and work.” 

“She got into the daily routine of exercise.” 

The word comes from “route,” or a regular, carved-into-the-earth way of getting there. Roads are carved from steady use and repetition. The road becomes a regular way of being.

We carve out our routines, and then our routines provide space for our craft to expand.

My little one loves having a routine. He’s out of the newborn phase (although still a baby), and thrives when he’s given regular naps and feedings. A day of good naps can be the difference between a smiley, content baby, and my fussy, crying-and-wiggling baby. Both are the same kid, on different routines.

Designed well, a routine lets me get more of what I want. I am as many words as I make space to sit down and write. If I spend all of my time thinking about what I’m going to do and when I’m going to do it, I’ve spent my time thinking, not doing. The routine lets me forget the path and get into the substance.

A routine is a way of being. How do you show up in the world? What are the patterns of your life, of your work, of your being?

More than an intention for a day, or a desire for the week, is the importance of setting up good habits. A routine is the invisible structure that lets us dig into what we want to do. Rather than rely on motivation or inspiration — we can settle into the gold that is habit formation.
This Fall, I’ve been craving routine more than anything.

Putting on and choosing (or not choosing) your clothing is a routine. In our household, we’re eliminating most of our clothing (my husband and I share a closet together — one closet, and we each have half of a dresser). We stick to a few basic outfits to stay simple. Why? Because we want to choose ideas and creativity in our work over thinking about year’s worth of clothing choices.

I exercise at the same time every day as part of a routine.

A pattern for the day, a pattern for the work, a system of organization, a structure that provides clarity — and freedom. A cadre, or a frame, can be more freeing than the idea of unlimited freedom.

By creating a routine, I can expand.

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What’s your routine? What are your habits and ways of being? This post is part of the Monthly Writing Prompts — check out October’s theme, here.
Get monthly writing prompts in your inbox by signing up for the newsletter, here.

October Monthly Writing Group: Routine

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Last week I posed a question in a few writing groups I’m in: would a monthly writing theme be helpful to you as a writer?

Do you want to write about a topic, a subject, or an idea together?

The answer was a resounding yes.

A monthly framework to write: join me for a new theme, each month.

So, let’s write together each month around a topic or a theme. Each month, I’ll put forward a topic for consideration with a call to write.

What’s in a monthly writing prompt?

  1. Read below to find out this month’s theme.
  2. Take the theme, explore it, and anytime this month (October 2016) write a poem, essay, or reflection of your choosing. You can take photos, post on Instagram, share on Twitter, or publish an essay.
  3. Leave a link to your work in the comments on this post. Share it using the hashtag #MoWriting (it’s short for “More Writing” and “Monthly Writing.”)

We can all read through the posts (check the links in the comments!) and get to know more of each other’s work and writing.

October’s writing theme: routines

Welcome to October, a time for introspection, reflection, and turning inwards.

Keeping in line with the idea of a monthly theme (which is itself a pattern and a routine), the first theme is all about Routine.

  • What does it mean to have a routine?
  • What does your routine look like?
  • What is routine, and what is not?
  • Does having a routine help you? When does having a routine not help you?
  • What are the routines in your relationships, your partnerships
  • What is your routine in your work?
  • Where do you want more, or less, structure and habit?

I find myself craving more routine as I take off on my next business adventure (yes, it’s happening already.) I’m drawing and detailing and designing in notebooks. I’m creating structures for expansion, creating places for community.

Why I’m creating this

Writing together has always held me accountable and let me dive deeper. Rather than flitting from one idea to the next, I want a way to dive deeper into a subject and explore it through multiple posts, as well as hear ideas from other authors, writers, and creators I admire. Using monthly themes and habits has been a successful tool in my own practice.

I’m borrowing these ideas from two organizations I admire greatly: Thousand Network has monthly themes for the Thousand Women’s Circle that I’m a part of, and Holstee’s Mindful Matter blog explores monthly themes, which I adore and have written for. So I will add to the room and create a monthly theme here on this website, for anyone who wants to join.

Going deeper with community

One of my desires is to find a way to bring more people together in community. Writing a blog alone is not enough; I want my business and my practice to bring creative people together. When we work together in creative ecosystems, collaborate on work (even if the work is first done solo), and find people to be in community with, our work grows richer and stronger.

Over the past few years, I’ve had a chance to see what happens with community through our writing groups, the Grace and Gratitude workshop, and in the private mastermind that kicked off a few weeks ago. (If you want to learn more about the next round of the Mastermind and put in an application for consideration, sign up here). Each time I admire how much you grow, especially as you learn from each other. If I can design things that bring people together — in community and around ideas — I’m content.

By finding and sharing your writing with each other — and by letting you discover each other through the comments and hashtags — I hope that you’ll all get to meet more of each other. I get to meet so many amazing people through writing on this blog, and I’m searching for ways to bring this community closer together over the coming years.

The prompts are free and the love is abundant!

So, go write about your routines, push publish on your essays and images, and leave a comment below with a link to your piece.

Focus On What You Can Do

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

Being a new mom is suddenly, urgently grounding.

It’s hard to leave the house because, well, there’s a baby right there. He needs me. Unless I get a babysitter, daycare, or my husband is home, I’m here, and it’s me and the baby.

This makes so many things infinitely harder. Leaving the house? That’s pretty difficult to do with a brand new baby. Exercising? Hard to do solo, especially when the kid is too young to hold his head up, so we can’t do a jog together yet. Nevermind the fact that leaving the house to go exercising is far less appealing than, say, eating a pint of ice cream. For breakfast.

(This is a real craving I’ve had, and I just dissected this craving with The Cravings Whisperer Alex Jamieson on her podcast, and she says it’s totally okay as a new mom for me to eat a pint of ice cream daily. I’m going with it.)

But back to the present: there is a real baby in the house, and he’s made it far more challenging to get things done.

There is a temptation to focus on all of the things I can’t do right now.

But instead, I’m trying to figure out everything I can do instead.

When I can’t leave the house to go visit people? I can call them instead. I can text them, send cards, or host hangouts for my favorite people on the interwebs.

When I can’t call someone? I text them instead. I drop them an audio text (a voice memo sent via text, like a voicemail. But better.)

When I can’t run, I can walk instead.

If I can’t get outside to a class to exercise (boy, do I wish!), I can do a Seven Minute Workout in my house instead. My neighbor, who also has a new baby boy, says he does the 7-minute workout twice in the mornings, and that’s all he does for exercise.

I try to do the 7-minute workout twice each week. So there we go.

When you don’t have time for the 7-minute workout, you can practice deep breathing.

Meditate, even just for a moment.

Stretch while you’re waiting in line for something.

If you can’t walk, enjoy the time that you can sit.

When you can’t take a vacation, you can absolutely find a patch of grass to lie down in for ten minutes. A micro-vacation.

Lie down in the sunshine, close your eyes, and feel the late warmth of the summer sunshine. Let the grass tickle your elbows, let a dog lick your feet furiously. Kick off your sandals.

Focus on what you can do.

P.S. I’m opening up applications for my Fall 2016 Mastermind. There is space for 8 to 12 people. I’m looking for the right mix of ambitious, intelligent, quirky, creative people to bring together for accelerated success. We’ll start in September. Sign up for program details here. Applications close Sunday, August 14th.

Missing A Day

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

I woke up with a start at 11:30pm on Saturday night. I didn’t post anything today!

I had forgotten to post: so many things swept up to take hold of the day. New York got a blizzard with 22 inches of snow. Alex and I hiked through it to take a 16-hour weekend class on birthing, massage, postpartum, and newborn care. My head was full. My feet were tired.

I didn’t write.

So began the conundrum:

Lying in bed, do I get up and rush to the computer? Do I stay up late, disrupt my routine, insist that the deadline is more important than all else?

Or—and I think arguably this is harder for me—do I find a way to relax into the moment, let it go, and begin anew the next day?

I decided to try to skip posting. My head frantically came up with things to write and say while I was in bed. I exhaled and said, tomorrow. Tomorrow. We can begin again tomorrow.

It is okay to be imperfect.

The challenge for me, and I don’t know how many other people feel this way as well, is not letting one lapse cloud and cluster my judgment. Would missing a day throw me off kilter? Would I backslide and decide that not writing was easier, and I’d just skip a few days, who cared?

The next day, the practice was as follows: rise and wake, and begin again. Every day, we begin again.

Don’t frantically try to “catch up” and write the past essays, or write through every single prompt. Start today, with one essay, with one post.

Every day is a new day.

Here we are.

We begin, again.

12 Unusual Things to Clean, Organize, and Sort — To Let Go of The Past & Prepare For the New

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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A few months ago, I started cleaning out unusual things. One bright Saturday morning, I woke to spent the day obsessively cleaning. Not frantically, and not hyperactively. But I did move steadily from one thing to the next, surprising myself with how much I could clean and how much these small, little things were calling me to be organized.

Do the big cleaning moves first

Last Spring, I had a copy of Marie Kondo’s bestselling The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, and we tackled several key projects over a couple of weekends. First were the clothes and closets, since those were easiest for me. We probably removed about half of our clothes and useless items that we weren’t actually using.

Next were the books (before | after), a tangible project that involved getting rid of about a third of our books. The result was surprising: everything on our bookshelves was something we loved, not something we thought we should be reading. Having a bookshelf of cherished collections instead of a bookshelf of admonitions about who you ought to be is surprisingly lightening. Your heart feels excited and eager, not weighty and oppressed. If each book were personified and the author came to life, shouting at you to read and reading quotes from the books to you, what would your space feel like? I want to be surrounded in warm quotes and delicious stories, in a way that feels like a pile of quilts, a cozy winter fire, and hot chocolate chip cookies.

Cleaning is best begun with big items first, big moves that feel concrete and tangible. We tackled the books over a weekend and felt a huge lift by the end. Some of the principles of Marie Kondo’s theory are:

  1. Discard first. First, throw things away. Get rid of things that don’t call to you. You can’t get clean and organized when you have too much stuff, and it’s stuff you don’t even want.
  2. Tidy by category. Pick a category to work on (clothes, books, papers, tools, kitchen) and work only on that. If you try to tackle everything, it’s overwhelming.
  3. Organize with care. When we store and organize things, it should be with pride. We should celebrate what we have and store it carefully.

Then we paused. We didn’t move directly to the next project. We enjoyed the summer, we got pregnant, we focused on our jobs and the work we were building.

When you’re not ready to start something new yet, sometimes you need to sort out the old. Sometimes it takes some reorganization and un-cluttering to freshen up your mind again.

More recently I’ve been cleaning, sorting, and organizing in small projects. It occurs to me that some people call this “nesting,” — but my desire to unpack, let go, and refresh has hit me in a way I haven’t seen before. Usually my cleaning begins with the big things: books, clothes, tidying up the surfaces.

Delicate, intricate, and unusual things to clean: small projects for an open mind

What’s different right now is the delicacy and intricacy of these cleaning projects — and how much they are re-organizing my mind as a result. Nothing seems to change on the outside (the house looks the same), but the refresh button in my brain lights up. I thought I’d share a few of these strange projects for your curiosity and inspiration.

The key here, however, is that this wasn’t rushed. Each of these projects took from an hour to a few hours, and I’ve been doing them as a way to start the day, or a weekend project. I take ten days off, then I dig into the next closet. They’re short and non-intensive. If the project starts to feel too large or burdensome, I’ve taken on too much.

Here are a few things to inspire you on your cleaning quest:

Radio stations

I spent an early morning hour walking through all of my Pandora stations and deleting everything I didn’t use. I had at least 60 or 70 stations and didn’t use most of them. The game involved playing a station, seeing if I liked the first song that came up, and deleting it if not. (In the case of a “meh,” I skipped ahead to the second song to verify.) Did I love the station? Did the name make sense? Delete, rename.

Socks

Over time, my socks pile up and crappy songs mingle with my favorite socks. I dumped the entire drawer onto a bed and ruthlessly got rid of everything that wasn’t a joyous favorite. Yes, joyous favorite! Did I LOVE putting them on? Alright, gone.

My sock drawer sings to me in the morning.

Underwear

Ditto: clean out all your crappy underwear. Chuck them. Get rid of things with holes, loose threads, or more. Chuck ’em. Buy new ones. Tingle. :)

All the crappy fridge bottles you never use

Open up your fridge. Look in the door. That weird maple-lemon marinade sauce you never use? The old soy sauce that’s crunchy on the edges? Chuck them all. Wipe it down. (Just the door! Not the entire fridge.)

Put all the loose books around your house back in their homes

Over a month or two the books wander off the shelves and take place on my nightshelf, my desk, my counter, the fireplace mantle, and other little bits and places. One morning I woke up and walked around the house and picked up all the books and placed them by the bookshelf. Back they go. Books have a home now.

Any old drafts in WordPress you’re not actively working on

Your makeup or medicine cabinet

The silverware drawer

We have lots of loose odds and ends. Go through and get rid of all those forks and spoons that don’t feel right. Unless you have a matching set already and you love it (we don’t), paring down can feel uplifting.

Tupperware

You know when you can’t find the lid to the tupperware? Chuck the unmatched pieces. Get rid of a stack of 16 little containers if you know you’ll only every use 1 or 2 at max.

Jewelry

I had so much fun laying out all of my jewlery across the bar counter and getting rid of half of it. I barely wear much at all, and all I need is a good pearly necklace and a few earring options. I made a pile to donate.

Your day bag or backpack

When was the last time you emptied your pack thoroughly? Marie Kondo says that your bag likes to be emptied every single day, because it gives it a chance to rest and breathe. I do it about once a week and I’m always surprised to find what stowaways are hiding out in there — bonus kleenex packs, nut bars, and other nick-nacks. Give it a good clean-out and feel lighter (literally) tomorrow.

Your card collections or pen collections

Ever stash away too many pens? Have a collection of notecards that you’re constantly rifling through to find a good one? Go through them now and pick out only the ones you love. Donate or recycle the ones that make you feel “meh.”

Reinvent your wardrobe (a la capsule wardrobe)

I moved everything that no longer fits into two big bins under our bed. I can’t wear most of my clothes right now as it is, and tugging down a shirt that’s too-short in the winter makes me feel miserable and cold. Instead, I moved everything out of the closet and my dresser and put only the things that I will wear currently (cold-weather pregnancy wear) into my closet. It’s about 16 hangers: 4 dresses, 4 blouses, 4 long-sleeve shirts, and 4 warm wrap sweaters. I only have one coat that fits right now, and it’s actually very freeing. To see these few hangers slim in my closet and know that I don’t have many decisions about what to wear — and that what I pick will feel great — makes me feel relieved, not worn out, when the day begins.

It’s all about how you feel

Holding onto a bunch of stuff that makes you feel lackluster, weighed down, or indifferent is heavy. When you let go, you lighten up. Tackling small projects can achieve the same effect as tackling big projects. Each time, I’ve found more space cognitively, and I notice that my energy no longer leaks out towards these unfinished and burdensome collections of things.

May this give you inspiration for the new year.

How about you? How does cleaning make you feel? What projects are you working on this year?

Should You Worry Now Or Later?

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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There are so many unknowns coming ahead on the horizon:

Will we have a baby that sleeps or a baby that cries non stop?
Will I love being a mom or will it be an immense challenge?
Will I bond with my kid right away or will it take time?
Will breastfeeding be hard or easy?
Should we move to be closer to Alex’s work? Or stay because moving is hard?
Will the birth be difficult or not too bad?
How are we going to function on so little sleep?

None of these things are things I can know in advance. None of these things can I plan for — or even remotely change by worrying about them right now.

In fact, the enormity of some of these questions makes worrying about them seem ridiculous. I can’t know yet. I won’t know. There is peace in not knowing.

Alex has been repeating a mantra lately that has been calming and grounding:

Is there anything we can do about it now?

The answer is often no.

So we release the need to hold on to the fear and worry.

We will deal with it when it arrives.

What transpires is trust:

Can we trust our future selves to be able to figure it out? Will we be able to handle it?

The answer is resoundingly yes. We are (you are!) competent, capable, smart, resilient people. We can figure things out in real time. We can be present, knowing that we will make new discoveries when we need them.

Even if we have the hardest year of our lives. Even if nothing turns out as planned. Even if we have a better year than we can ever imagine (because often worry focuses just on the negative: it can also be far better than we know).

We will live through it. We will do the best we can.

I trust my current self to show up and learn and grow. So, too, do I trust my future self to be able to deal with what comes to me as it comes.

We cannot know in advance. That is part of the joy of living.

Why Saying “No” Is A Kindness

Posted on by Sarah K Peck

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I invited two dear friends to join a book club with me. I think their reactions were remarkable.

The first said, “No thanks,” directly.

“Business books are so oversaturated in my life right now. I’m only reading fiction,” he said. “I can’t read another business book right now.”

Done. Clear. Easy.

Being direct is a kindness.

The second hesitated on the phone and then said, “I can’t say yes right now, because I haven’t read a book straight through in a while, and I have a ton of traveling to do over the next month.”

I wasn’t sure if he wanted in or not. He wasn’t sure either. He clarified:

“When I say yes, I want to really mean it — I lock it in, like a commitment. So I don’t say yes unless I mean it. That’s why I’m hesitant to say yes, unless I know I’ll actually be there and be able to show up.”

So grateful.

This makes it easier for me, the book club organizer, not to wonder if a bunch of people signed up, but won’t actually participate. If they’ll flake. Whether or not I’ll be chasing people around or engaging in meaningful conversation around a book (which, clearly, is what the goal is).

Saying no — clearly, firmly, when you know you can’t make the commitment or the time — is a kindness.

Saying “yes” when you really mean no is a burden on other people’s energy, time, and space.

Say yes — when you mean it.

Say no when you don’t want to.

It is the kindest thing.