britt skrabanek – Page 2 – Britt Skrabanek

The Non-Violent Practice of Productivity

There is a grand difference between being productive and being busy. Though most of us want to be productive, we get trapped in a cycle of busyness.

I’m not sure when being busy became such a definitive part of our culture. Somehow it’s synonymous with working hard, when truthfully it’s so toxic that busyness does nothing except beat us down.

The moment I got out of high school and joined the workforce, as a lowly hostess at the Peppertree Cafe, I remember being jarred by the urge to be busy. That confusion followed me forever after that first job.

What I learned was this. Look busy…even when you’re not.

Honestly, I didn’t understand the point. But because I was at the mercy of a paycheck, I played along. After all, anyone not looking busy would be terminated.

Later on in the corporate world, I saw another side of work. People were slaves to busyness.

It was a tragic competition to see who the busiest person was.

Whoever got there first and stayed the longest…won. Whoever forgot to eat and wasted away…won. Whoever was so overworked that they had a breakdown and had to take a leave of absence…won.

Yet, all they were doing was losing. Losing out on hours of their lives that could have been spent with family, or doing that creative thing that set them free.

At the beginning of my Yoga teacher training, we learned about the Yamas and the Niyamas. They are basic guidelines for life which help you know yourself and others.

One of the Yamas that really stood out to me was Ahimsa. The literal translation of this Sanskrit word is non-injury or non-violence.

When our focus in life is to be consumed by busyness, we are being violent to ourselves. It is not our boss who is making us do this. It is not our job that is making us do this. We are harming ourselves.

If you truly feel that your job is causing this deep unhappiness, then you should find a different one. Otherwise, you are not practicing Ahimsa.

What I’m getting at is the one thing I always aim for in my life. Balance.

How can I be productive while being kind to myself? How can I kick ass without kicking my own ass?

I get a lot of shocked expressions from people when they learn that I’ve written three books. The inevitable question always comes up: How do you do it?

Well, I practice productivity.

When I set my mind to accomplishing something, I do it. But it took me many years to learn how to be productive instead of busy.

I learned how to fulfill instead of deplete.

Lately for work, I’ve been attending webinars and reading blog posts about productivity as much as possible.

I shared this post on Twitter, which several of you also liked, so please check out Wanna Stop Working So Late? Do Your Most Exhausting Task First. It’s more business-oriented, but I learned a lot about prioritization—including working in sprints and rests.

Why did I go on this productivity rampage? Because I felt like I was slipping into the vortex of busyness.

I started a new job last winter and I had days at work where I didn’t know where to begin. I would stare at my to-do list until I wanted to cry, because I was overwhelmed.

So, I took matters into my own hands to incorporate Ahimsa into my work routine. This is what I’ve learned…

Start your morning right. Take ten minutes for a little bit of meditation (or if you prefer, sitting still) and stretching. The computer distractions can wait.
That thing you’re dreading most…do it first. Don’t worry about your emails, just knock it out.
F*ck multi-tasking. Dedicate your full attention to one project at a time. Turn off email alerts if they’re too distracting.
Schedule half-hour email sessions. You will never clean out your inbox. More will come after you delete the others. Stop trying.
Group similar tasks together. While you’re in that mode, your focus will be optimized.
Step away from your desk. Even if it’s for a short walk to clear your head, the break away from your screen will revive you.
Hang it up. After your ninth hour of work, you’re done. Go home. It will all be there tomorrow.
No matter what…exercise. Staying active will keep you energized. Not doing anything will have the opposite effect.
Cook food. Instead of eating out all the time, make simple meals that have simple ingredients.
Remember your creative side. Never ditch it because you’re drained. Spend a little time each week, and enjoy it.
Lose yourself in sex. You’re not too tired to do it. Experiencing pleasure is vital to our sanity, so get some.
Focus on your sleep. An hour before, shut everything off. Rub your bedding down with lavender oil. And dream, dammit.

Hey, I get stressed out just like anyone else. I’m not perfect, and I stopped trying to be.

Each day I wake up and strive for a balanced life, one where I can pay my bills but still spend as much energy as possible on the people and things I truly love.

It’s hard work…much harder than looking busy.

Alright your turn! How do you practice productivity?

1am in a cab on a school night

It was raining just so.

Like a melody I knew well, but couldn’t place. The kind I wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of my life.

I was crossing a bridge in a cab at 1am. I was alone with a cab driver.

There was water all around. A river beneath and the rain above.

The windows of the cab were speckled with gorgeous rain drops that shined with the city lights. It was like a painting that would never stay the same, no matter how much you wanted it to.

It was blurry, but it was beautiful.

I had just left a group of friends and Mr. H was out of town. I never do this anymore…stay out late on a school night.

But, this was a night I would never forget. One that changed me, from one side of the river to the other.

My thoughts were rampant. I had to say goodbye to an old piece of me that night, a wild piece that no longer existed.

And this transformation all happened in a cab with a guy I didn’t know.

Even now I couldn’t tell you what his name was. But he had a Russian accent. That I can remember.

We got to talking about the usual which turned into the unusual. These things happen in the middle of the night.

Somehow we got onto art, writing in particular. I told him about my struggle with writing novels full-time…I don’t know why. When you’re talking to a stranger, one that you’re paying for a short period of time, there is safety in that.

Also, I knew that he would understand. He was a professional listener after all.

You see, every cab ride I’ve taken late at night has been like jazz music to me. Slow, other-worldly—honest and sexy.

Toward the end of our ride, we talked about robots. Yeah, robots.

Again, these things happen in the middle of the night.

The cab driver told me that soon cabs would be taken over by robots. And while that would have made me snicker ten years ago, it doesn’t now.

I said: “It’s a damn shame.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, because I’ve always loved cab conversations.”

He said: “Thank you.”

I swiped my card and tipped him well. Then I shut the door and he drove away. The cab vanished behind a thick veil of misty Portland rain until it was just me standing alone on my curb, trying to balance in my boots.

I stumbled inside to write this gibberish in my journal. I almost forgot about it until I came across it. The writing was sloppy, almost not mine.

But the story was pretty special.

Like a melody I knew well, but couldn’t place. The kind I wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of my life.

This was the song I had stuck in my head that night… “All Things to All Men” by The Cinematic Orchestra featuring Roots Manuva. I played it while I wrote this blog post.

Strangely enough I found the perfect video on YouTube that has Russian subtitles—the language of my cab driver.

Pretty amazing world we live in. We’re not all that different, are we?

Love in Ten Lines

You all know I can’t pass up a challenge. And when that challenge involves an outrageously difficult love poem to write…well, I’m gonna give it a shot.

I haven’t heard from my good blogger buddy, John (aka Meticulous Mick), in some time. I was overjoyed that he thought of me to participate in this challenge.

I’ve worked with Meticulous Mick a couple of times now.

He was a Life Enthusiast last July.

Photo by Meticulous Mick (aka John Grant)

A few months before that, we collaborated on a poem/photography project…

When I am me, I am free

Needless to say, I was happy to connect with him again. I must say, though he is known for his stellar photography, MM wrote a fabulous poem for this challenge.

Be sure to check it out.

Here are the rather insane rules for this poetry challenge…

Write about love using only 10 lines.
Use the word love in every line.
Each line can only be 4 words long.
Nominate others who are up for the challenge.
Let them know about the challenge.
Title the post: Love in Ten Lines
Include a quote about love ( this can be your own)
You may write in any language

This love poem challenge comes at an interesting time as Mr. H and I will be celebrating a marriage milestone next month. Ten years of marriage.

When I was in the bathtub last night, I started playing with some ideas. Love is such a vast subject and even with the restrictions of the Love in Ten Lines challenge, my mind wandered quite a bit.

I remembered something we say to each other every now and then. It sneaks into our domestic repertoire and I thought it was perfect. Rather than I love you, sometimes we say I love you so.

Four words. Perfect!

But first, even though there were so many love quotes to choose from, this one is fitting for the two of us. When we first found each other, we were resistant to falling in love but we did anyway…

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” – Rumi

And, here’s my poem…

Love in Ten Lines

He loves me so
Loves my stubborn ass

They laughed at love
Said love wouldn’t last

Somehow our love prevailed
Love won, bitterness lost

Love is forever young
Love has no decay

Love will never die
Our love lives on

My nominations are all former Life Enthusiasts, who I think will come up with some awesome masterpieces. It just so happens that all of their names end with “a”.

The End of A Physical Perspective

Many times I considered giving up on blogging. I always joke around with people that it’s a full-time job, because it kind of is.

If you’re not writing a post, sharing on social, responding to readers, and commenting on other blogs (tired yet?), you’re thinking about your next post and possibly the post after that.

But whenever I think about the “work” that goes into blogging, I think about the “awesome” instead. It’s actually quite easy to do, because there has been a lot of awesome.

Almost three years ago I started this blog, and I am not lying when I say that I had absolutely no freaking clue what I was doing. I knew that it was a big commitment, which is why I shied away from it before and why I refused to take on the responsibility at my job at the time.

I just knew. It’s a lot.

Back then I started a blog because I needed a platform as a writer, especially an Indie Author who nobody would have a chance of hearing about otherwise. I heard phrases like “build a tribe”.

Build a tribe? How in the hell am I supposed to do that? Is anyone ever going to read this crazy shit?

At first, nobody really did. Except for family and friends…thanks, guys. xoxoxo

But then, I started meeting people in the blogging community—people I had never met and had no association with my family or friends who might have forced them to visit. There were some likes, even a few comments, and eventually they shared.

I first came up with the title for this blog, A Physical Perspective, when I felt like I needed some sort of title.

It was thought of on a whim. I remember standing over my dining room table on an evening after work or something and writing it on a notepad.

It’s open to interpretation, which I won’t go into here, but I started thinking recently…who cares?

And, I listened to my people.

It’s very rare when any of you guys even use that name, because you say “Britt’s blog”. So, going into another wild year with this blog, I have ditched my old name.

Many of you were here the other day for Zen’s Life Enthusiast post, and you commented on the new look. Thank you all for your sweet compliments.

I think the space better represents who I am and what I have to say. There’s no need for a fancy blog title that leaves you scratching your head about the meaning.

This is Britt’s blog.

I am a flawed human just like everybody else, and all I do is write nonsense that sometimes makes sense. I am a Life Enthusiast, because I am flawed…and that means I’m alive.

Thank you all for being here. I’m excited to share many more of life’s ridiculously gorgeous moments with you…my tribe.

I’ll Be Happy When…

Happiness. We put so much pressure on that single word, don’t we?

It’s all too easy to get stuck in this mental cycle of thinking happiness will magically arrive once we get something we thought we wanted more than anything else—when we accomplish something we worked our asses off to get.

I’ll be happy when I get that promotion.

I’ll be happy when I buy that house.

I’ll be happy when I write that book.

Do we feel happy after obtaining or accomplishing any of these things? Not for very long. Like coming down from a high, we crash and we wonder where it all went wrong.

Hey, what happened to my happiness I deserve? I worked so hard for it, and now it’s gone.

The build-up we attach to thinking happiness comes after a certain thing causes this self-destructive roller coaster of emotions.

As a writer, I know this feeling well. And I see it all the time in other writers.

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Okay, that’s the teaser for the guest blog post I wrote over at Chris Stocking’s place.

To celebrate the relaunch of his website, my good friend asked me and a couple of writers to kick off christopherstocking.com with some good old fashioned writing about writing.

Head on over, read the rest of the piece, and check out his new pad. (And, make sure to bring Chris some good beer, since I know he worked hard on everything.)

Cheers, Chris!