mindfulness

Of Websites and Waterbugs

aspects of care of business

What constitutes a good use of time, particularly for those who work independently? We want to do things ourselves, yet we also need to define healthy limits.

An Example

For example, we live in a world in which it has become remarkably possible to put together a website. Yet, is it a good use of our time?

This question comes up now because I have just taken time to revise my Beargrass Press website. Working with the Beargrass Press site, however, has taken me away from other concerns. It has also taken me back to an event last fall, when I was invited to participate on a panel with the objective of providing guidance to such professionals as scientists and lawyers interested in transitioning to work as independent editors.

I remain grateful to the conference organizers for the opportunity to reflect on my own path, time I would not have otherwise taken, as well for the chance to engage with others so dedicated to words. Those of us on the panel worked together to include presentations as well as opportunities for questions. As part of our presentations, we each offered a few suggestions that we hoped would be of use to those attending the session.

A Suggestion

One of my suggestions involved being mindful of the approach we take to care of business. This is perhaps an obvious concern, yet I myself had no training in business, and many of my colleagues have similar backgrounds. As we know, being in business requires all manner of forms codes processes planning . . . seemingly countless, potentially overwhelming sets of to-dos. How is it that we might approach these many tasks? I added that it may be helpful to keep in mind to:

  • Ask for support
  • Do homework
  • Make time for learning
  • “Market every day”
  • Remember the “waterbug”

These aspects of care, generally self-evident, are part of my toolkit. I have not come even close to incorporating the fourth item, the mantra of trusted individuals who have given of their time and energy in guiding me along my own path. The last is relatively new to me and may need some explanation.

Those of us attending the conference (Northwest Independent Editors Guild), as others committed to similar independent ventures that represent a growing part of today’s economy, face different challenges than those who have more-traditional forms of employment. We work alone—apart from a company or an established business with such staples as employees, IT professionals, accounting departments, marketing departments . . . along with health care plans, vacation days, and sick leave.

The Waterbug

The “waterbug” derives from the work of Jackie B. Peterson at the Small Business Development Center in SE Portland, near where I live. She suggests that, just as insects such as the water strider work with the surface tension at the point at which each foot (insects do have feet, though they do not have toes!) makes contact with water to stay afloat, independents often benefit by engaging the expertise and services of others to cover essential areas, which then helps them remain afloat. Our work with others, for example, might involve someone who takes care of our books, designs a marketing piece, or perhaps develops and manages a website, thereby freeing our time and energy to focus on what we are creating in terms of our business, what we want to to develop and grow and foster in the world.

A Better Example Next Time?

During the panel session, developing/managing a website was one of the areas I indicated a person might seek help with in order to focus on other issues, especially when getting started in business. I myself was advised to enlist such help when I decided I’d put off taking the website plunge long enough. I had to smile that day. On the heels of my presentation, one of the other panelists indicated that she had done her own website. I then heard the third panelist echo the same. I didn’t add that I, too, had done mine. It was clear that I would have done well to have chosen a different example for this group. The nature of our work is with words. In addition, independent editors tend to be, well . . . independent.

A Model with Merit

I nonetheless believe the “waterbug” is a model with merit. The issue concerns any of the multiple aspects of work that require our attention if we are to reach toward our goals. And the question remains: is what we are doing a good use of our time? How is it that we might maintain enough perspective in the course of all that needs to be done to find the means by which we might focus on that which is a good use of our time? I think it is a question worth asking, often. May we all do well in carving out our days in ways that work in wholeness with what we are creating in both our personal and our professional lives.

~ Managing Habits That Get in the Way of Writing

Many of us want to develop a writing habit—or improve the one we have. Often enough, we may get started, later to find ourselves checking something online or standing in front of the open door of the refrigerator—sometimes not quite sure how we got there. Habits are essential for our lives, no question whatsoever. Yet, acting out of habit may not well serve our goals for developing a writing habit—or for writing. How might we improve on this?

An Unintended Consequence of Habit

One of my sisters recently recounted how she’d carefully prepared a dinner in a crockpot, complete with a $13 roast, before heading out for work. With foresight—given predictions of unseasonably warm temperatures that day—she’d carried the crockpot to the basement so it wouldn’t contribute to the house’s heat. On her return home, she found both crockpot and contents exactly as she’d left them. Yes, she and her husband shared a Plan B dinner that night.

Although the roast didn’t survive, my sister’s crockpot is fine—as is the outlet she’d plugged it into that morning. The “trouble” was that she had switched off the light at the top of the stairs when leaving the basement that morning, just as she had done countless times before. The outlet she’d used for the crockpot is one that is on when the basement light is on—and otherwise off. It’s not that she was unaware of this feature, only that she had acted out of habit. That she had been paying attention up to that last step did not guarantee her success.

A Mindful Approach to Habit

We cannot always avoid similar well-worn paths that may get in the way, yet we can work with them as we hone our writing habit. The commitment requires a mindful approach to the entire process, at least until more and more of the parts we want to keep become “automatic.”

We know people who tie their writing habit to such things as:

  • time of day
  • a special location that spells W R I T E (and only write)
  • a particular table or chair
  • a specified number of words per day
  • a predetermined time spent writing on any given day

  • They use specific cues for writing—and likely certain rewards as well (even though, indeed, writing is its own reward).

    Intriguing research points the way for all of us to use our motivation in service of starting or honing our writing habit. Although we each need to find what works for us individually, i.e., what serves as cue and reward in the process, we can all manage the multiple “other habits” that may take us off track or otherwise slow us from meeting our goals.

    Writing with the Power of Habit

    Charles Duhigg provides welcome insight to this in The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business—a highly recommended read (and study). The process involves more that the proverbial carrot, however. Among other things, Duhigg suggests the need to make a decision about our actions ahead of time. He also notes the need to increase our awareness of what leads us to engage in our unconscious behaviors—what we are craving, as he terms it, in The Power of Habit); mindfulness of what we are really after when we abandon the task at hand then enables us to make a change. Check out his TED talk (above), too!

    In time, the writing habit we’ve developed may become every bit as natural as turning out the light when we leave a room—or at least when we leave the basement. Further, we can enjoy the process of writing sans the struggle of what, where, and when, as well as without so many unintended side trips. We may find ourselves more frequently enjoying Plan A rather than Plan B.