Tricking ourselves into action

Pigeons are simple creatures who avoid pain and seek pl—oh, wait… (Image by analogicus)

Today, I got over the pain of a project I had been procrastinating on.

I started a timer and got to work on it. Within just a few seconds, the pain was gone.

I had built the project up in my mind as something worse than it was. I kept bumping it forward on my to-do list, as though my future self would be pleased to see it there tomorrow.

And then, I finally decided to take action, and my problem was solved.

I'm sure a neuroscientist or psychologist can explain the root cause of procrastination. Understanding why we do the things we do is often helpful in not just eliminating unwanted patterns of behavior, but in preventing them.

Sometimes, though, the need to know why is a distraction. I'm not necessarily procrastinating because I have some deep-seated problem. It might just be because I'd rather do something fun and easy than boring and difficult. I can choose to do the boring and difficult thing first and then use the fun and easy thing as a reward. I can choose to take action despite the fact that I don't want to.

I'm not talking about massive, life-changing action. I'm not talking about challenging myself and overcoming my blocks. I'm talking about doing the the stupid stuff that allows me to trick myself into compliance. These are simple moves that can distract me from whether I want to do the work or not.

I can pull up my Google Drive, move the mouse to the correct document, and double-click.

I can pull out my phone, tap on the phone app, and type in the number of the person I've been dreading calling.

I can put on my shoes and coat and hat and step out the door.

From there, I believe that a continued focus on the action itself is what makes the difference. If I keep typing, for instance, I don't have room in my brain to think about whether my work is good or bad, who else might be better at this, or what else might be a a better use of my time. I'm simply typing, focusing on getting the words down on the page.

The other day, I was doing a big editing job. Midway through, I got overwhelmed. I just wanted to take a nap even though I'd only been awake for three hours.

I stopped the tracker that I use to time my tasks and put my head in my hands. My mental monologue was something like, "Ughhhhhh, maybe I could come back to this laterrrrrrr it's so horrrrrible ughhhhhhhh..."

Sitting there, it occurred to me that this angst was actually part of the work. Why shouldn't I get "credit" for the time I was sitting there in despair, trying and failing? I started the time tracker back up.

But here's the weird part: I was done whining, just like that. My brain seemed to say, "Well, the tracker's started--I'd better get back to work." I returned to editing, and ten minutes later the document was ready to publish.

Many times, we want some kind of buffer between our rational mind and our emotional mindset. We don't want to have to deal with _ourselves_ all the time. It's strange how the simplest things can pull us away from misery and toward curiosity. Taking action can pull us out of our funk and allow us to move forward. And we can shamelessly do whatever it takes to get ourselves to take that action.

Babies stop crying when you give them something else to focus on. We adults are exactly the same.

As a piano teacher, I discovered that the metronome "tricks" students into focusing at a high level. They stop thinking about whether or not they want to play or whether they like the song, and they just do it.

Simply starting a countdown timer on my phone can galvanize a child into getting dressed for the day. "On your mark, get set, GO!" Something about these words bypasses their lassitude and gets them into a frenzy of movement, especially if you're bringing the proper drill sergeant energy to it.

Turning on certain music is my cue that we're in Work Mode. The ritual of making coffee and placing it beside my laptop is another signal that quiets the procrastination demons and lures me into instant productivity.

In such a situation, the "why" behind the success or failure has faded into the background. What matters is the peaceful, occupied child, the typing writer, the cold-calling salesperson, the podcast-listening laundry-folder. The thing to do in that precious, hard-won moment is to tiptoe away and leave the person to their task, even if it's yourself.