Picking carrots and choosing sticks
Volume 4, Number 4 | April 2010
When you lock into that thing you're really and truly passionate about, you don't need much in the way of persuasion to keep you there, and it takes an act of God (or staggering amounts of cash) to pull you away.
Getting yourself into locked position, though, can be tricky, as can tending to the inevitable attendant stuff around your passion that has to get done but is not so fun.
Most of us mere mortals understand the value of treats and the power of deadlines, accountability and penalties for motivating our way through the rough patches. In my own travels as an oft-stubborn mule, I have found that selecting treats and harnesses that are not random but that actually mesh with my goals can be extra-motivating, as well as self-improving.
Delicious treats that don't rot your teeth, but encourage better brushing
While I never met anyone who actually was offered a car or a mink coat for graduating high school (or was it college?), the purported tradition never made much sense to me. The reward for applying oneself to the task of one's education is an expensive consumer good? Not a lot of synchronicity there.
Whereas I did meet some kids fortunate enough to receive a post-college summer trip to another continent, which (massive envy notwithstanding) made a great deal more sense to me. Not only were those big reward dollars being directed towards something that was potentially educational (in between what I understand was a great deal of partying), the implicit message from the giver was "I trust you now to go off on your own; let's see how this goes." In other words, responsibility begets privilege, but also more responsibility.
Further, the gift of an experience far outlasts the gift of almost any material possession. Not that I've got anything against good jewelry or real estate—I've owned both before, and they're nice to have—but the intangibles color both the time preceding the reward and the time after. They really reinforce one another, like interlocking goals.
Some examples of good-for-me treats I've used to keep me motivated without plumping me up, killing my wallet or destroying brain cells:
Good intake words for finished output words While I love writing, some days I love it more than others. On those days, I assure myself that when I hit my quota, I get to watch an extra episode of whatever well-written TV-on-DVD series I'm currently obsessed with. (Battlestar Galactica is fueling this newsletter, and the back issues are well-dotted with past faves.)
Blips in the Google Wave with Dave™ for blogging What started out as a collaborative test drive of a new piece of software has turned into what my friend Dave Seah aptly named "your own personal blog, written just for you." I call it a mini-soap opera, too: I know most of the players, and the fun is seeing what they'll do next (and occasionally meeting new ones). Either way, there's a joy both in reading and creating the content there, plus it provides an excellent place for me to work out ideas in a semi-disciplined fashion that offers safety, space and feedback.
A walk for work I'll go back to morning walks when I eventually get a dog, but I doubt I will give up my afternoon work-reward walks (lucky dog, although he'll just have to wait while I do my Nei Kung). The physical action helps shake off the tension from sitting in one place and concentrating, and whatever it is about walking helps loosen my brain for the last spurt of work in the early evening.
Keying experiences to your own needs
Actors who memorize a new monologue (never my favorite task) might celebrate by surfing for a few tried-and-true ones on YouTube (although try not to watch ones you might want to use yourself, lest you be influenced), or treating themselves to a repeat viewing of a favorite film, or even buying themselves a session with a favorite coach.
Designers have no end of excellent, good-for-you distractions on the Internet with which to reward themselves, but there is also the scheduled meetup with fellow designers (which adds support and usually, stimulating beverages), an outing to the bookstore or museum, a photo walk or plenty of other change-of-venue carrots that will also feed your 3-D needs.
I will occasionally reward myself with an actual, physical treat. Even then, I try to make it consumable, so it's not sticking around forever, and I try to have it both reward and remind me of the good habits I'm working towards. After completing an unpleasant financial task, I bought some cologne I'd hankered after for a long time. It reminds me of taking care of my money every time I wear it, but without a bad association attached, which is something I definitely need as I work to change my relationship with money.
After one batch of decluttering followed by some work on an upcoming speech, I bought some blue candles from the 99-cent store; according to the principles of feng shui, the color blue and the element of fire in that area of my living room fosters smart thinking, and I can never have enough of that.
The trick, as much as there is one, is to think "what would feel good but make me better/stronger/faster without clogging up my space?" In an example of almost perfect symmetry between task and reward, my big treat for decluttering stuff in my apartment will be anything from a break to haul stuff down to the recycling bin and dumpster to a ride to Goodwill for the big loads.
And yes, occasionally dancing like an idiot around my newly fresh and clean living room. Which has also provided some of my neighbors with an entirely unexpected treat...
Next month: Picking the right stick to beat yourself up with! (Okay, kidding—mostly...)
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