Just Do the Best You Can with the Time You Have

One of the great gifts having a hectic summer job has given me is it's forced me to prioritize what's truly important. There's only so many hours in a day and yet I still found myself trying to bend time at the end of a busy work week. I tried desperately to fit in all the routines, tasks, to-do's, and passion projects I felt compelled to see through. At the end of each day I was absolutely drained and my body was begging for rest.

It's possible to have a day job and a side hustle but it doesn't need to, nor should it, come at the expense of your health. All good things flow from being of sound mind, body, and spirit.

Try zeroing in on what really needs to get done and get to the other tasks when the ones that matter have been addressed. 

Just do the best you can with the time you have.

Airplane Mode

The other day I hopped on a flight to visit a friend in Houston. I rarely bring my laptop on board, or anything other than a book for that matter. Traveling light has sort of become my signature.

But this day was a bit different. I had a few deadlines coming up and knew I'd be busy once I touched down in Texas, so I decided to take my computer with me.

I was amazed at how much I was able to get done. The plane was quiet and there were virtually no interruptions. I was almost disheartened when a flight attendant announced we'd be arriving soon.

I thought of all the times I worked on scripts, or various writing projects in noisy coffee shops in New York as fire trucks and honking cabs barreled down 7th Avenue. I'd almost become unaffected by the reliable commotion, but now wondered how deep the quality of the work was and might have been if I'd find another spot - a place where one could work in "airplane mode."

There Was More When I Did Less

Years ago, I implemented a few tiny measures into my life that have proven helpful in increasing productivity and heightening my sense of self-awareness.

First, I decided not to start the day with news. Getting rid of car chases, political squabbles, and natural disasters from dancing in my head allowed me to start the day with a sense of optimism.

I also decided to limit how often I checked my email, opting to login for the first time close to 10:30 am and not responding to every text message at the drop of a hat. By not beginning the day responding to the priorities of other people I was able to focus on projects of my own.

Finally, I understood the sense of urgency we often feel is largely self-imposed. When I slowed down I heard more, noticed more, and felt more. And paradoxically, all of this "more" started to happen when I did less.

Good Friends

Yesterday, I spent the majority of my day celebrating a close friend's birthday. A group of about 10 of us pedaled our little hearts out on a bizarre little contraption masquerading as a bicycle. We slowly, and I mean VERY slowly, made our way to various stops on a popular pub crawl. We told stories, laughed loudly, and ate great food.

Still, my mind wandered throughout the evening as I considered the many other projects I'd hoped to work on - matters of real value I convinced myself. Whether it was a writing project, or reaching out to my editor regarding the status of my first book, staying present was at times a challenge.

It wasn't until I woke up this morning and reflected on the day before. I thought about how fortunate I was to have such loyal and close friends. I considered my great fortune in even getting to spend time with such wonderful people in a time of shrinking attention spans, demanding schedules, and seemingly endless distractions. It finally occurred to me the time I spent with this community of friends -- of family, was of real value.

Work hard, but remember to surround yourself with a thoughtful community and good friends whenever possible.

Baby Steps

I'm listening to an audiobook right now called, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. The first misconception she tackles is the notion one can't teach someone how to be a better writer.

Instead, she argues how an insight or two from someone who's already trodden a similar path may make all the difference. After listening to a tip of hers last night, I must admit I now agree.

Writers, like many artists, often approach new projects with a sense of dread; looking at the whole mountain instead of through signposts along the way. She references a writer she admires saying, writing is a bit like driving in the dark. You can only see past the headlights, but it can still be done.

Rather than writing or creating anything by looking too far ahead simply look beyond your headlights. Tell yourself, "I'm just going to write this one paragraph as best I can." Or, "I'm just going to focus on committing the first line of this soliloquy to memory." Whatever it is, take baby steps without being overwhelmed by the complexity and scale of the project.

Inch by inch, step by step, you'll get there sooner than you think. Just break it down and be sure to give your best effort along the way without fear of how great or imperfect it turns out to be.

"Messiness," she says, "means that life is being lived."

Master Class

For many years in New York I worked as a casting reader. The projects varied in scope, but invariably I'd be called in to help out with projects every actor dreams of - large-scale Broadway productions reading opposite giants of the theater and occasionally silver screen.

Friends would often pepper me with questions about what so-and-so was like, or what the secret to a great audition was. But mostly, they wanted to know about the career and lives of the stars.

My observations and insights seldom led up to expectation, but I was telling the truth. "They're just people," I'd say. "They get just as nervous before an audition as you or me." But perhaps the most valuable lesson I took away was that you never not have challenges. As you steadily rise higher in your career, you simply trade your old issues for a new set of ones.