Thursday, July 28, 2011

My Reptile Brain Ate My Homework

I meant to finish this blog entry yesterday but interruptions kept nipping at me. And I interrupted myself by checking and writing email, sending text messages, and making a to-do list unrelated to the two projects I was toggling between on my laptop.

Sound familiar?

Jump to this post by marketer and entrepreneur Jonathan Fields. Go on. I'll wait while you read it.

You're back? You didn't turn off your laptop, phone, or iPad?

I didn't either, but I recognized myself in Fields' essay and know I pay the "ramping cost" he refers to every time I switch tasks. Yesterday, I was busy, but I wasn't productive.

I'm ready to change that.

Lark named this blog Reading, Writing, and Rambling--three activities that nudge if not force us to make sense of what's happening, whether it's in the pages of a book, on the document screen in front of us, or on a local bus in a country where we don't speak the language. Those activities help us "process, synthesize, allow connections between seemingly disparate parts…." Of course, we have to resist the urge to Google every question that enters our heads while we're supposed to be reading, typing, or gazing out that bus window/taking stock of our fellow passengers.

Even though my index finger twitches every time I get a new email message, I'm going to let it twitch. Why? Because I don't want to miss what Fields calls "the in-between."

I don't want you to miss it, either. Have a productive week.

17 comments:

Lark Howard said...

That soooo describes my days. When I was in Scotland--internet-free, cell-free Scotland--last fall, it took me almost a week to detox from my tech addictions. But when I did, I certainly felt more in the moment and connected to what was going on around me. Funny that.

Thanks for a great post!

Ruth said...

Pat, I too spend a lot of time on the computer or with my phone. However, the creative muse always seems to pounce when I'm driving and can't pull over to take notes. It seems the police frown upon stopping on the freeways. Or when I'm in the shower. Taking notes with dripping hands just doesn't seem to work, the ink has a tendancy to run when wet. Or the most wonderful inspiration hits, and there is a patient at my desk or so other problem at the job that pays my bills. My boss might be supportive in my writing, but not during office hours.
so now, back to work, the lunch hour is over and the muse was missing as usual, guess she went out to eat.

Jo Anne said...

I think Fields' article is genius, and I've often wondered if folks realize how much productivity is lost on 'connectivity.' I kept email contained in my office as long as possible because we bill by the hour. I can easily lose half my billing time each day opening, then trying to close a "communication loop." Right now I've got emails out on plans for tonight and tomorrow night. A phone call would've taken 5 minutes. But instead, there will be several emails to and from various folks.

I like my "in-between" times. And I like my alone time. I'm not on Facebook nor Twitter, though I'm sure I'll succomb one of these days. So, Pat - I loved your post. And I'm going back to work to complete one more project today before I throw in the towel to more 'connectivity.' Good job, lady! :-)

Jane Myers Perrine said...

Pat, I tell myself that those breaks give my creativity a chance to work but I know that's rationalization. Thanks for a great blog and a shove in the right direction.

Rae Renzi said...

A great post, Pat, and I loved J. Fields' article on the cognitive cost of connectivity. As a cognitive scientist, I've known about the task-switching cost for years--but applying to myself? Ha! Your post was a much needed light in a dark closet. Thanks!

Nancy Kay Bowden said...

Pat, that was a great post! Thank you for sharing a link to the article!

Donna Maloy said...

So true, Pat. So true. Maybe it's a good thing my phone doesn't have Internet access. Maybe. But even though I can't seem to narrow my focus on any one thing for very long, I want that constant access to the rest of the world I want it all! The whole enchilada. What's that, you say? My writing? Oh, I forgot about that. Again.

PJ Mellor said...

Is there a support group for this...maybe online?

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Oh, to be in Scotland now, Lark. Your tech detox sounds heavenly, and who doesn't need lochs and cairns?

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Hi, Ruth,
My muse eats more than I do, and, like yours, shows up at the worst times. Can you use your cell phone as a recording device?

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

I'm glad you liked Field's article, Jo Anne--and I'm glad I'm not the only one stuck in what you cleverly termed "communication loops." Here's to giving ourselves more "in between" time.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Hi, Jane! How's the three-book deal going, you rock star, you! I know all about rationalizations, and Fields' article gave me a shove, too.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Rae, I loved Fields' article, too. His post was the light in the dark closet, not mine. That reminds me of a joke. How many writers does it take to change a lightbulb?

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

Thanks for following that link, Nancy. My thinking's also been changed by Jane Friedman, who's a contributing editor to Writer's Digest. She just ended her There Are No Rules blog, but has started another, Electric Speed at JaneFriedman.com

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

You had to say "enchilada," Donna. Now my reptile brain craves Tex Mex.

Pat O'Dea Rosen said...

PJ, you made me laugh so hard, I forgot I had tasks.

aroseisarose said...

Interesting post. Do you think hyperconnectivity has changed expectations? I wonder if part of the reason we keep opening those loops is that we feel pressured to respond to an email, text, whatever as quickly as we received it?