Where to find the hours to make it happen

By Derek Sivers

When you experience someone else’s genius(ˈjēnyəs) work, a little part of you feels, “That’s what I could have, would have, and should have done!”

Someone else did it. You didn’t.

They fought(fôt) the resistance(rəˈzistəns). You gave in to distractions.

They made it top priority(prīˈôrədē). You said you’d get to it some day.

They took the time. You meant(ment) to.

When this happens, you can take it two ways:

You could let that part of you give up. “Oh well. Now I don’t need to make that anymore.”

Or you could do something about that jealous(ˈjeləs) pain(pān). Shut off your phone, kill the distractions, make it top priority, and spend the time.

It takes many hours to make what you want to make. The hours don’t suddenly appear. You have to steal(stēl) them from comfort(ˈkəmfərt). Whatever you were doing before was comfortable. This is not. This will be really uncomfortable.

The few times in my life I’ve made a real change like this, it felt awful(ˈôfəl) on the surface(ˈsərfəs). I wasn’t shallow(ˈSHalō)-happy about it. I wasn’t smiling. I was annoyed(əˈnoi) and fighting it inside, but on the outside I did the work. And in the end, got the deeper satisfaction(ˌsadəsˈfakSH(ə)n) of finishing.

https://sivers.org/uncomf

Personal Branding(brand)

By Steve Pavlina

Personal branding is basically(ˈbāsik(ə)lē) the way you market yourself to the world. Your personal brand is what other people think of you. In some ways it’s outside your control, but you obviously(ˈäbvēəslē) have some influence over it.

Personal branding is unavoidable(ˌənəˈvoidəbəl). As others interact(ˌin(t)ərˈakt) with you, they’ll automatically(ˌôdəˈmadiklē) form mental(ˈmen(t)l) associations that connect you with certain labels(ˈlābəl), often within the first few seconds. You can’t avoid being labeled, and other people can’t avoid labeling you. It happens automatically because our brains(brān) are wired to recognize patterns and form associations. The labels people attach to you become part of your personal brand.

If you type an email, you’re branding yourself. If you have a conversation with a friend or family member, you’re branding yourself. How you dress, what you eat, and how you talk all contribute to your brand. Think of your brand as the summation(səˈmāSHən) of all the associations about you that are stored in people’s minds.

Your external(ikˈstərnl) brand

Your external brand is how you project yourself to the world. There is an element of choice here. You can decide what to say or write in order to convey(kənˈvā) a certain image. Your projected image will influence what others think of you and how they might choose to interact with you. You may stumble(ˈstəmbəl) upon this image accidentally(ˌaksəˈden(t)(ə)lē), or you can deliberately(dəˈlib(ə)rətlē) target a specific type of image.

…

Your internal brand

In addition to your external brand, which is how most people think about personal branding, you also have an internal brand. This is what you think of yourself.

What 3 adjectives(ˈajəktiv) would you use to describe yourself? Take a moment to think about that, and jot(jät) them down. Is this a brand you feel good about? Does it really resonate(ˈreznˌāt) with you? Is this the same image you project to the world? If you could change those adjectives, what would you change them to?

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https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2008/02/personal-branding/

Trying to be the perfect child nearly destroyed(dəˈstroi) me

By Madigan Ruch

My mom used to tease(tēz) me that my first words were: “I’ll do it myself.”

Maybe it was because I was an only child, and spending hours alone left to entertain(ˌen(t)ərˈtān) myself cultivated(ˈkəltəˌvādəd) an unhealthy desire to be self-reliant(rəˈlīənt), or maybe it’s just some unalterable(ˌənˈôlt(ə)rəbəl) genetic(jəˈnedik) composition(ˌkämpəˈziSHən) completely out of my control. Whatever it was, driven by some internal force, I was fixated(ˈfikˌsāt) on proving(ˈpro͞oviNG) that “I could handle it.”

My stubbornness(ˈstəbərnnəs) and obstinance, which my mother carefully rebranded(rēˈbrand) as independence and strong will, meant that I wanted – or rather, needed – to do everything on my own.

At 12, I was co-ordinating(-ˌāt,ˈôrdnit) my swim-practice carpool(ˈkärˌpo͞ol) schedule(-jəl,ˈskejo͞ol) with the other moms and mapping out my six-year plan to university. My parents were thrilled(THril). While their friends were hounding(hound) their kids to finish their homework or stop watching TV, they were unbothered(ˌənˈbäT͟Hərd) about whether or not I’d do the right thing: They always assumed I would.

I wanted everyone to think I was capable(ˈkāpəbəl), hoping if they believed it then I would, too. Because despite(dəˈspīt) all of my efforts to appear flawless(ˈflôləs), I didn’t feel like an ounce(ouns) of it was true. On the outside I presented(priˈzent,ˈprezənt) a façade(fəˈsäd) of control; on the inside, I felt as though a thousand strings were pulling me in all different directions and it was only a matter of time before I fell(fel) apart.

As life became more complex(ˌkämˈpleks, kəmˈpleks, ˈkämˌpleks), perfection(pərˈfekSHən) became harder to achieve. I felt like I was falling, and I had no idea when I would hit the ground. Panicked(ˈpanik), I pushed myself harder while punishing(ˈpənəSHiNG) myself more severely(səˈvi(ə)rlē) for my shortcomings.

But after years of unrelenting(ˌənrəˈlen(t)iNG) pressure, I was beginning to crack(krak).

…
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-trying-to-be-the-perfect-child-nearly-destroyed-me/

The one traffic(ˈtrafik) light town with some of the fastest Internet in the US

By Sue(so͞o) Halpern

Before Shani Hays(ā) began providing tech support for Apple from her home, in McKee(mə), Kentucky(kənˈtəkē), she worked at a prison(ˈprizən) as a corrections officer(ˈôfəsər, ˈäfəsər) assigned(əˈsīn) to male(māl) sex offenders(əˈfendər), making nine dollars an hour. After less than a year, she switched to working nights on an assembly(əˈsemblē) line at a car-parts factory, where she felt safer. More recently, Hays, who is fifty-four, was an aide(ād) at a nursing(ˈnərsiNG) home, putting in a full workweek in a single weekend and driving eighty-five miles to get there. Then her son-in-law, who was married to Hays’s oldest daughter, got addicted(əˈdiktəd) to crystal(ˈkristl) meth(meTH) and became physically(ˈfizik(ə)lē) abusive(əˈbyo͞osiv, əˈbyo͞oziv). Hays’s daughter started using, too. The son-in-law went to jail(jāl). Their kids were placed in foster(ˈfäs-,ˈfôstər) care. Then Hays’s stepmother(ˈstepˌməT͟Hər) got cancer(ˈkansər). “There was a lot going on,” Hays told me. “I was just trying to keep it all together.” She began working from home last summer, which has allowed her to gain(gān) custody(ˈkəstədē) of her three grandchildren. (Her daughter has since completed treatment for her addiction(əˈdikSHən).) During Hays’s half-hour lunch break, she makes supper(ˈsəpər). “I wouldn’t be able to do this without the Internet we have here,” she said.

McKee, an Appalachian(ˌapəˈlāCH(ē)ən, ˌapəˈlāSH(ē)ən) town of about twelve hundred tucked(tək) into the Pigeon(ˈpijən) Roost(ro͞ost) Creek(krēk) valley(ˈvalē), is the seat(sēt) of Jackson(ˈjaksən) County(ˈkoun(t)ē), one of the poorest counties in the country. There’s a sit-down restaurant, Opal’s(ˈōpəl), that serves the weekday breakfast-and-lunch crowd, one traffic light, a library, a few health clinics(ˈklinik), eight churches(CHərCH), a Dairy(ˈde(ə)rē) Queen(kwēn), a pair of dollar stores(stôr), and some of the fastest Internet in the United States. Subscribers to Peoples Rural(ˈro͝orəl) Telephone Cooperative(kōˈäp(ə)rədiv) (P.R.T.C.), which covers all of Jackson County and the adjacent(əˈjāsənt) Owsley County, can get speeds of up to one gigabit(ˈɡiɡəbit) per second, and the coöperative is planning to upgrade the system to ten gigabits. (By contrast(ˈkänˌtrast), where I live, in the mountains above Lake Champlain(SHamˈplān), we are lucky to get three megabytes(ˈmegəˌbīt).) For nearly fifteen million Americans living in sparsely(ˈspärslē) populated communities, there is no broadband(ˈbrôdˌband) Internet service at all. “The cost of infrastructure(ˈinfrəˌstrəkCHər) simply doesn’t change,” Shirley Bloomfield(ˈblo͞omˌfēld), the C.E.O. of the Rural(ˈro͝orəl) Broadband Association, told me. “It’s no different in a rural area(ˈe(ə)rēə) than in Washington, D.C. But we’ve got thousands of people in a square(skwe(ə)r) mile to spread(spred) the cost among. You just don’t in rural areas.”

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https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

Essentials(əˈsen(t)SHəl) for the Way of Less

By Leo Babauta

The Way of Less is not really about saying no to everything or tossing(täs,tôs) everything out or doing nothing. Sometimes it involves those things, but that’s not what it’s about.

It’s about saying yes to what really matters. Paring down to the essentials that matter most to you, and making space for those.

What matters most: What are your essentials? My list might look something like this:

My mission (work, including writing and teaching)
My loved ones
Learning
An active, healthy, mindful life

The last one might seem like a cheat(CHēt), but it’s flexible: it includes meditation but could include walking, hikes(hīk), sports, lifting weights, yoga, cycling(ˈsīk(ə)liNG), swimming, surfing(ˈsərfiNG) or more.

What are your essentials?

Possessions(pəˈzeSHən): You can also make a list of essential possessions. Mine might include:

A minimal(ˈminəməl) amount of clothes(klō(T͟H)z) for a week
A dozen(ˈdəzən) books or so (I have more than that right now, but am paring down)
Exercise equipment & a yoga mat(mat)
My computer & phone
And of course things like dishes(diSH), towels(ˈtoul), a bed, sheets, etc.

Projects & doing: How much do you have on your plate(plāt)? If you could whittle(ˈ(h)widl) it down to the essentials, what would it look like? For me, it might look like:

My mission — one project at a time
Cultivating(ˈkəltəˌvāt) the communities of my programs (including responding to messages once a day)
Learning project
Doing things with my loved ones

I’m not saying these are the only things I ever do, but they’ve become my “projects & doing” essentials lately.

Digital essentials: How much do you do online? What do you read and watch? How often are you responding to messages or checking social media? If you had to pare(pe(ə)r) it down to your essentials, what would it be?

For me, it’s email and the online communities for my programs, along with team and client messages. I also check a few news websites but those aren’t essentials for me. I also often do my learning projects using online reading.

It’s not about cutting everything out of your life, but about contemplating(ˈkäntəmˌplāt) what your essentials are.

https://zenhabits.net/way-less/

Who I Work To Be

By Henry Walker

a child of teachers,
they who know that helping others
be
and become
is a high calling
that one must answer
if one hears it in the heart,

a child of love,
who every day thanks his stars
that she who completes his best self
is the central part of his life
and helps him be,
and become better,

a parent,
who gives his all
to tend the flame(flām) of his sons
until they flare(fle(ə)r) so true
they’re ready to blaze(blāz) free without him,

a grandparent,
who knows the truth
that a child centers the universe(ˈyo͞onəˌvərs)
and that his grandchild centers his world,

a poet(ˈpōit,ˈpōət),
who pairs with the universe
to chronicle(ˈkränək(ə)l) what head and heart
can approximate(əˈpräksəmət) of the grand revelations
inherent(inˈhirənt, inˈherənt) in every moment,

a photographer,
who pairs with the universe
in attempts to record(ˈrekərd) approximations(əˌpräksəˈmāSHən)
of the wonder that opens every moment
if we but have the eye to see it,

a champion(ˈCHampēən) of community,
of what can be built
when individuals can release themselves
into connections with others,
with themselves,
and with being fully present in a world
that is worth total commitment of self,

each of us is here
because countless generations before
gave their best and believed
in the future, the past, the present,

how much better to know, when the last breath comes,
that one has fought(fôt) dissolution(ˌdisəˈlo͞oSHən) well
and helped God build order, meaning, rightness, memory
in a universe that can forget too easily.

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2008/10/who-i-work-to-be.html

Blowing(blō) off work to play

By Derek Sivers

What do you call it when you skip school or work for a day, to do whatever you want instead? In America, we call it playing hooky(ˈho͝okē). In England, we call it skiving(skīv). (Got another word for it?)

Some of my best, most productive, and enjoyable days have been while playing hooky.

I think it’s a healthy practice, to occasionally(əˈkāZHənl-ē) blow off a previous(ˈprēvēəs) commitment, and do whatever you want instead. It’s a great reminder that you’re the boss of your life.

But it’s interesting how productive I am on those days.

When I think back about the times in my life where I got the most done, created the most, or had a major breakthrough in some aspect(ˈaspekt) of my life, it was often while I was supposed to be doing something else.

For example: I’d sign(sīn) up for a three-day conference(ˈkänf(ə)rəns), show up to registration(ˌrejəˈstrāSHən), decide I don’t want to go, then sit in my hotel room, uninterrupted(ˌənˌin(t)əˈrəptəd), and get some great work done for three days.

This has happened multiple times. I really should stop signing up for conferences!

Or… Could we use this as an effective productivity technique?

Sign up for something — a time commitment.

Put aside the time to do it.

When the day comes, feel the tension(ˈtenSHən) between what you said you would do, and what you really want to do.

Blow it off, and do what you really want instead.

Maybe the productivity comes from the fact that the time has already been put aside, so I suddenly have free time to do what I really wanted.

But I suspect that when I feel that tension between the obligation(ˌäbləˈɡāSH(ə)n) and desire(dəˈzī(ə)r), it amplifies(ˈampləˌfī) the difference, and makes it clear to me how badly I want to do this other thing. Then that amplified desire leads me to be more intense(inˈtens) and focused in my actions.

https://sivers.org/hooky

How Airbnb Is Silently(ˈsīləntlē) Changing Himalayan(ˌhiməˈlāən) Villages(ˈvilij)

By Shanu Athiparambath

Above my mountain-top cottage(ˈkädij) in a beautiful Himalayan village, the road ends and the forest(ˈfär-,ˈfôrəst) begins. After sunset, flying squirrels(ˈskwər(ə)l) come out. Leopards(ˈlepərd) occasionally(əˈkāZHənl-ē) growl(groul) outside the cottage. There is no habitation(ˌhabəˈtāSH(ə)n) nearby, except a small village of a hundred people where houses stand so close to each other that people can watch over each other for good. In their houses, people, cattle(ˈkadl) and mountain dogs coexist(ˌkōəɡˈzist). There is no shop or restaurant nearby. There is nothing for many miles(mīl) down, except pine(pīn) forests and a narrow(ˈnarō), unpaved(ˌənˌpāvd) road. Even the narrow, unpaved road didn’t exist a few years ago. Then there is a river. Everybody knows everybody else. It is hard to make an advance at a river girl without all mountain girls hearing about it. Crime(krīm) is almost unheard(ˌənˈhərd) of. I live at the end of the habitable(ˈhabədəb(ə)l) world.

A year ago, when I began to travel into the eastern(ˈēstərn) Himalayas(həˈmäl(ə)yəz,ˌhiməˈlāəz), I put my cottage on Airbnb. It didn’t take long for it to become one of the most successful Airbnbs in my state, raising(rāz) my landlord’s(ˈlan(d)ˌlôrd) income beyond his wildest hopes. A decade ago, this would have been hard to imagine. My town is not very different from the United States at the end of the 18th Century. The family is still the fundamental business unit(ˈyo͞onət). People work alone in their family farms or one-man shops, some with a nephew(ˈnefyo͞o) or two as help. The rule of the clan(klan) is in its full glory(ˈglôrē). Everybody is on Facebook and Instagram, and nowadays(ˈnouəˌdāz), on Airbnb. But in many ways, time has remained still. It’s an unlikely location for a successful vacation(vāˈkāSHən,və-) rental(ˈrentl), but Airbnb made this possible.

When they drive up the hill, even our happiest guests fear there can’t be anything good at the end of this. It’s the rare(re(ə)r) sort of person who doesn’t get cold feet when he drives up the narrow, winding road. This doesn’t bother me, because they’ve already made the payment. They’ll almost certainly write glowing(ˈglōiNG) reviews, because good memories are about good endings. A mountaintop cottage out of nowhere wouldn’t have had much success not long ago. It’s not for everybody. Quirky(ˈkwərkē) spaces have always had a market, but it was hard to bring them to people. People didn’t pay attention if your property wasn’t centrally(ˈsentrəlē) located. Travel agents have a limited shelf space. Anything offbeat(ˈäf-,ˈôfˌbēt) can be a bit hit-and-miss. But it isn’t hard for an offbeat product to outcompete(ˌoutkəmˈpēt) mainstream(ˈmānˌstrēm) products on Airbnb. If guests love the experience, you’ll(yo͞ol) get plenty of long, heart-felt, perfect reviews. It won’t take long for your property to appear on the top, when potential(pəˈtenCHəl) guests look up your neighborhood(ˈnābərˌho͝od).

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https://veridici.com/how-airbnb-is-silently-changing-himalayan-villages/

3 Reasons It’s So Hard to “Follow Your Passion(ˈpaSHən)”

By Jon M. Jachimowicz

How many times have you been told to “follow your passion?” It’s a message that appears in everything from graduation(ˌgrajo͞oˈāSHən) speeches to job ads. We even say it ourselves. When I surveyed(sərˈvā) a recent(ˈrēsənt) class of Columbia(kəˈləmbēə) Business School MBA students, over 90% of them listed “pursuing(pərˈso͞o) their passion” as an important goal for their future jobs.

But according to a recent Deloitte(də) survey of 3,000 full-time U.S. workers, across job levels and industries, only 20% say they are truly passionate(ˈpaSH(ə)nət) about their work. Research that I and others have conducted show that many—if not most—of us don’t know how to pursue our passion, and thus we fail(fāl) to do so. How do we fix this conundrum(kəˈnəndrəm)? Research on passion suggests that we need to understand three key things: (1) passion is not something one finds, but rather, it is something to be developed; (2) it is challenging to pursue your passion, especially as it wanes(wān) over time; and (3) passion can also lead us astray(əˈstrā), and it is therefore important to recognize its limits.

Don’t Wait to Find Your Passion

One common misperception(ˌmispərˈsepSH(ə)n) people have about passion is that it is fixed: you either have passion for something or you don’t. The problem with this belief is that it’s limiting, leading us to think of passion as something we discover or happen upon. As a result, we may try many different jobs looking for the right “fit,” the role(rōl) that instantly flips the passion switch, and we may not take into account the fact that it often takes time to develop one’s passion for a job, along with the skills, confidence, and relationships that allow one to experience passion for work.

Indeed, research has shown that believing passion is fixed can make people less likely to explore new topics—potential new sources of passion. It also leads people to give up on new pursuits(pərˈso͞ot) more quickly if they seem difficult.

To better pursue your passion, challenge your assumption(əˈsəm(p)SHən) that passion is something to be discovered. Focus on actively developing a passion instead.

…
https://hbr.org/2019/10/3-reasons-its-so-hard-to-follow-your-passion

Matchers and Mismatchers

By Steve Pavlina

Sometime during the 90s, I listened to an audio program that explained(ikˈsplān) the differences between matchers and mismatchers.

Matchers are “yes, and” people who see the upsides of an idea more prominently(ˈprämənəntlē) than the downsides. If you share a new idea with them, they’ll see how the idea could work and may offer suggestions for what else you could do to make it even better.

Mismatchers are “wait, but” people who see the downsides of an idea more prominently than the upsides. If you share a new idea with them, they see what could go wrong and may point out the risks and drawbacks.

I’m a matcher. I find it easy to feel optimistic(ˌäptəˈmistik) and enthusiastic(inˌTH(y)o͞ozēˈastik, enˌTH(y)o͞ozēˈastik) about a new idea, often thinking about what could go right before I think about what could go wrong.

I’d say that my Mom is a mismatcher. When I’d share my youthful ideas with her, she’d often express skepticism(ˈskeptəˌsizəm) and might point to some of the risks. I think that’s because she herself was raised(rāzd) by parents who lived through the Great Depression(dəˈpreSH(ə)n) and learned the dangers of excessive(ikˈsesiv) optimism(ˈäptəˌmizəm).

Incubating(ˈiNG-,ˈinkyəˌbāt) Ideas

Another lesson I learned from that same audio program was that it’s wise to involve matchers in the early phases(fāz) of developing an idea. A group of matchers working together will raise the level of excitement(ikˈsītmənt) and enthusiasm(enˈTHo͞ozēˌazəm). They’ll help to develop the overall vision(ˈviZHən). They’ll see the best possible outcomes.

If, however, you bring one or more mismatchers into the early development phase, it’s like throwing a wet(wet) blanket(ˈblaNGkət) on the whole affair(əˈfe(ə)r). They’ll(T͟Hāl) suck all of the joy and fun out of the process that matchers love, and they’ll think they’re doing everyone a favor by voicing(vois) risks and concerns early. Many otherwise viable(ˈvīəbəl) ideas die early deaths this way. If you have one mismatcher in a room full of matchers, the mismatcher will be the one that everyone else wants to strangle(ˈstraNGgəl). The matchers will likely regard the mismatcher as obstructing(äb-,əbˈstrəkt) progress and unnecessarily slowing things down.

…
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2019/10/matchers-and-mismatchers/