'Construction Signs' by jphilipg on Flickr

In truth, I hate “tip culture,” the idea that you can achieve balance, harmony, and rightness in life with a few painless steps in 5 minutes a day. It’s never that easy.

Also, I don’t want to tell you what to do. Who am I?

So, these aren’t tips as much as they’re pieces of advice that I’ve taken, which have powerfully affected my productivity and efficiency.

1. Keep a list of projects

A project consists of work towards a specific goal. I keep a separate text file of all my projects.

This includes everything I’m working on, even ongoing projects where I just have to check in occasionally. It ensures that I don’t forget anything.

Corollary: Don’t use email as a de facto list of projects and things to respond to. If you read an email and realize you now have to do three new things, don’t keep the email in your inbox; write those new things down and file the email away.

2. Turn off email alerts and process email completely

I keep my email program minimized, and I’ve turned off those alerts that pop up whenever a new email arrives. When I ”check email,” I clear time to actually process my email. When I’ve finished with an email, I move it to a folder. When I’m done checking email, my inbox is empty.

I’m not perfect with this. I doubt that anybody is. But when I do empty my inbox, I feel less distracted. Nothing nags. This habit also ensures that I’ve actually written down what needs to be done, instead of relying on a re-read of an email to refresh my memory.

This means I only check my email a couple of times a day. Even at work.

3. Every morning, schedule tasks on the calendar

Literally. Every morning, I open my list of projects. I find the most important one, locate a free half-hour slot on my calendar, and create a meeting for it. I’m the only one in the meeting. I continue until about 2/3 of my day is scheduled.

I felt weird the first few times I did this, but it worked. Not only does it push me to actually work on important projects, co-workers are less likely to schedule a meeting during time I’ve scheduled. So I’ll actually have time.

4. Take a lunch break

'lunch~' by tsuihin — TimoStudios on Flickr

I used to work through lunch, but a few weeks ago, I changed.

If I get up from my desk and walk somewhere else for lunch, even for just 20 minutes, at the end of the day I’m still reasonably fresh and energetic. If I don’t, by 5:00pm I feel beat up.

This doesn’t mean going out to eat. In fact, I usually take my homemade lunch to a conference room. It’s enough of a break.

5. Journal work and take a reward for every few items recorded

I have a document titled “Daily Time Log.” When I get to work, I open that document, then minimize it. Every time I finish a significant task during the day, or I talk to someone, I record it in the Daily Time Log along with a timestamp.

For every 6 items I record, I eat a small Peppermint Patty from a stash I have in a cabinet.

The key to the reward lay in finding something that I like but don’t love. If I kept Butterfingers or Snickers, I’d feel tempted to scarf them all down.

6. Pick a few core things to do every day

These are the things that are important to you and your work. For me, it’s writing. I write every day, when I get home. Before I eat dinner. Simple but effective.

What effective habits would you recommend?

Spent a good chunk of last night reading It’s All Too Much, based on a recommendation from Merlin Mann on the ”Back to Work” podcast.

It’s an excellent, kick-in-the-butt response to having too much stuff, and guides the reader through ways of tossing out a lot of it.

I was inspired by this image of Steve Jobs, way back in the day:

This was his apartment. He was a millionaire at the time this photo was taken.

So, I tossed a whole lot of things yesterday. Piled up some of it for Goodwill; the rest will go away. I’ll be free of it. Time to focus.

"Rub by belly" by tambako on Flickr

I lack self-discipline.

There are many reasons for this, none of them important now. The fact remains: I don’t need to discipline myself, besides basic practices like going to work in the morning. I can buy whatever I want, exercise if I want, and watch movies if I want.

We all know that, but what about the subtler cases? I don’t actually buy anything I want. I don’t eat McDonald’s at every meal.

But I do eat very few vegetables. I know the sorts of healthy foods I should be eating; I just don’t buy them. Meditation can only take a few minutes, but I never seem to get it done.

So:

Yesterday, I read a bunch of online articles on self-discipline. Buried amongst the useless self-help blogs, one helpful article from a Hindu perspective pointed out the power of saying “No” to yourself. Even in little ways. As a practice.

It can be very temporary. If I have an urge to check my email–and I checked my email a few hours ago–I’ll say “No.” I may check it again later. That’s okay. I’ll say “No” for now, just to practice.

I’ve been practicing this today, and it’s an amazing experience. It feels like a muscle. Feels strange at first, then normal, then powerful. I have an inkling this will change my life.

I’ve been reading personal improvement books lately. They’ve inspired me to pass along a recommendation that I hope you–yes, you, reader–will take to heart, think about, and implement.

Stop watching TV.

Completely.

Give your TV(s) away, if you can.

“But there’s good stuff on TV,” some proclaim. Yes, there is. There’s also good stuff in books and in movies. The problem is not the content; it’s the method of delivery.

You know all this. This sounds stupid. But this one stupid thing will suddenly give you the time to do all those things you want to do. Seriously.

Thanks to Merlin Mann for pointing out this ridiculous image

Growing up, I always wanted to be a writer.

(Queue 5-minute reverie about Goodfellas, which is exactly what I want to talk about. The reverie, not the movie.)

When I was a kid, I’d read a great book and think, Man, I’d love to be a writer. Just sit there at my desk and write. Mug of tea next to me, open window with the breeze gently blowing the curtains.

Even when I started writing seriously in my teens, and I realized that the process is nothing like that, I was always drawn to it. I always liked at least the feeling of clicking the ”Count Words” menu item at the end of an hour-long session and seeing that I’d added a thousand words to a story.

I’ve written sporadically ever since my teenage years. I’ve had plenty of other interests, of course, but that’s not really the reason. The reason is that I haven’t made time for writing.

Moreover, I’ve let other things slide into that time.

Now, yes, one has to set aside time for the activities one finds important. But there’s also something to be said for removing distractions, even voluntary ones.

For example, last year I created a calendar item called “Media Fast.” From sunset Friday to sunset Saturday, I would consume no broadcast media. No DVDs, no YouTube, no blogs, no newspapers, no books, no magazines.

When I attempted my first Media Fasts, the initial experience felt awkward, off-balance. If I was tired or needed a break, I couldn’t think of anything to do other than watch a DVD or fire up YouTube or check my news feeds.

Then I felt free. As overwrought, California, New Age, crystal-staring as that sounds, I suddenly realized that I had huge amounts of time. I could write, or play around on my guitar, or putter around in the garden, or fix that hole in my studio wall.

About ten years ago, I gave away my TV. (Yeah, this is jumping all around. Hang with me for a minute.) I just wasn’t following any shows, and when I did turn on the TV, I’d invariably spend half an hour channel-surfing. I just didn’t need that distraction.

Predictably, my productivity flourished, and I spent my downtime on things I enjoyed more deeply.

Via beerandscifi.com

Then along came NetFlix, and particularly the Roku. With this, I could choose only the movies or series I really wanted to watch. Perfect.

Except that I spent much of this week watching most of The Kids in the Hall.

That’s a well-written show. Nothing against it. I’m glad I found it again. But why did I watch the better part of the entire show’s run? Because it was there.

Meanwhile, I own over a hundred DVDs that I haven’t watched yet.

A huge pile of unread books and magazines teeter precariously next to my bed.

This is not an adult way to behave.

Moreover, I’m not writing. Sure, I need down time. But I also need up time.

As I showered this morning, I realized I faced a stark choice: I can either be a guy who watches movies and doesn’t write, or a guy who doesn’t watch movies and writes. I want to be the latter. Much as I wish I could do both, it’s not happening.

So. I canceled my NetFlix account.

As I mentioned yesterday, I’m broke. Almost literally. Lots of assets, no cash.

This was driven home to me yesterday evening, after work.  I stopped by a gas station on my way home to fill up my truck with gas. My debit card didn’t work, and neither did any of my credit cards. All denied.

To be fair, several of those cards I paid over the weekend just as their due date came up, so I think they’re just locked until those payments go through.

Still. Embarrassing. I called my Dad, and he suggested that I run back to work and see if I could borrow some cash. Brilliant! I did, and all was well.

Then I returned home to check my bank account balance.

Gulp.

I’m fine, really. I transferred some cash from savings, and my paycheck comes through this Friday. I just have to live frugally for a little while, and use a spare credit card for this week’s expenses.

I’m just shocked, to be honest. I knew I was low on funds, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. I’m usually good at keeping my finances in shape.

To be brutally honest with myself, I haven’t been paying enough attention. I ignored a few bills. I kept ordering anime and manga online even when I was low on funds, justifying that I needed it to keep up with Otaku, No Video. I’ve been foolish.

So, I’m facing up to it. I’ve stopped making any entertainment purchases. I’m eating frugally (inexpensive meals at home and leftovers at work; no restaurant meals). I’ve identified a paid service I can cancel and a few gadgets I can sell.

And I’m re-establishing my budget, which laid out how much I could spend each month on movies, manga/anime, my garden, etc. Very simple. It’ll need to be updated, but it helps.

Come to think of it, I should also establish an entertainment purchasing plan: what books/movies/etc. I plan to buy each month. Hmmmmm.

"Happy Birthday Lil guy...:O)))" by Kevin Law on Flickr

Read this today in Peter Drucker’s Managing Oneself:

Throughout history, the great majority of people never had to ask the question, What should I contribute? They were told what to contribute, and their tasks were dictated either by the work itself—as it was for the peasant or artisan—or by a master or a mistress—as it was for domestic servants. And until very recently, it was taken for granted that most people were subordinates who did as they were told. Even in the 1950s and 1960s, the new knowledge workers (the so-called organization men) looked to their company’s personnel department to plan their careers.

Then in the late 1960s, no one wanted to be told what to do any longer. Young men and women began to ask, What do I want to do? And what they heard was that the way to contribute was to â€œdo your own thing.” But this solution was as wrong as the organization men’s had been. Very few of the people who believed that doing one’s own thing would lead to contribution, self-fulfillment, and success achieved any of the three.

But still, there is no return to the old answer of doing what you are told or assigned to do. Knowledge workers in particular have to learn to ask a question that has not been asked before: What should my contribution be? To answer it, they must address three distinct elements: What does the situation require? Given my strengths, my way of performing, and my values, how can I make the greatest contribution to what needs to be done? And finally, What results have to be achieved to make a difference?

Indeed. To quote Fight Club, “Our generation has had no Great Depression, no Great War. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.”

My generation, and the generation now growing into adulthood, must discern the right and the good. My parents’ generation rejected it, and previous generations knew it through osmosis.

Cover of The Backyard Homestead

I may be moving soon.

My new job at NASA (squeeee!) requires a minimum 75-minute commute twice daily, usually in heavy traffic. While I’m okay with the drive itself–having grown up in this area, I have to be–I’m losing too much time. Even with audio books, three hours a day on the road is too much.

So I’ve been looking at houses near Goddard. One is a small house on 3/4 of an acre. That sounds small as I type it, but when I walked the property it felt huge.

Coincidentally, a few days ago I bought The Backyard Homestead, which purports to be a primer on self-sufficiency within a small urban or suburban plot of land.

It’s fantastic. With clear, concise language the authors describe a wide range of activities, from canning and preserving to owning chickens, goats, and cattle.

This is not a complete encyclopedia to caring for goats, of course. Instead, it’s a solid foundation in self-sufficiency. It’s a perfect balance of breadth and depth.

"wallpaper — The ISLAND" by balt-arts on Flickr

Some days, I seek hyper-technology. I want to engage folks on Twitter, post on my blogs, and clean up every broken link on my websites. The online world feels so vibrant and interesting.

On other days, I want to give up everything more advanced than a clock/radio. I want to sit down with a big stack of books and a hot mug of tea, or throw wide my kitchen cabinet doors and fire up the stove. The online world feels so shallow and pointless.

I don’t know why this is. Perhaps, in my passion, I spend too much time in one world, overdosing on its pleasures.

In any event, I’ve learned to take advantage of both moods. When I’m diving into cyberspace–and wouldn’t it be wonderful if the experience really did mirror early science fiction portrayals of descent into a neon wonderland?–I write blog posts and clean up my sites. During down times, I let that content dribble out.

This has been easiest with Otaku, No Video. When excited, I record lots of videos, then I release them on a strict schedule. I usually have between one and two weeks’ worth of videos completely finished sitting on my hard drive, ready to be released on schedule.

Some days, I wish I could be less extreme in my approach. Nevertheless, it works.

"Cooking" by HilaryQuinn on Flickr

I like to make my own stuff. I’d love to make my own furniture, clothes, etc., and I’m starting with food and daily household items.

Here’s what I currently make myself:

• Food (very little homemade in the past few weeks, as I focus on finishing up my RPG materials for the month)
• Laundry detergent
• Fabric softener – I use 1/4 cup of baking soda in the basin and 1/4 cup of vinegar in the dispenser.
• Dishwasher detergent – Unfortunately, it leaves spots. Big, obvious spots. Haven’t found a solution.
• Vegetable wash – Vinegar and water, I think in a 1:4 ratio.

Things I’d like to make myself:

• Granola bars – Done it before, and I’d like to replace the Clif bars I eat every morning.
• Cookies – I like to take tea in the afternoon at work, and homemade chocolate chip cookies are the perfect accompaniment.  Used to do this a lot; haven’t done it in months.
• Yogurt — To replace the  yogurt I always eat in the morning. I actually already made this; I’ll try to remember to blog about it shortly.

None of this is difficult, or consumes large amounts of time. It’s just easier, quicker, more expensive, and less satisfying to grab a box off a grocery store shelf.