Saturday, October 20, 2007

The Art Of...

...Getting Things Done is a book by David Allen that I picked up earlier this week after seeing it mentioned in one of my RSS feeds. While I like to think I've been rather out of control for most of my life, it's gotten especially bad in the last few months. I was just stressed all the time about God knows what--not even important things! Just the trash and recycling that was piling up, the newspapers piling up near my door that I only subscribed to because some kid came to my house asking me to subscribe to help fund his college tuition, and proceeded not to have time to read or even take the rubberbands off, the unread mail piling up on my desk, the dishes piling up in the sink, the music not reviewed, the practicing not done, the thing not cleaned, the task not finished. All these things that I worried about until I was paralyzed and had indigestion (not to mention the fact that this didn't get me any closer to finishing everything).

So this book, which essentially describes a system for getting organized, looked like just what I needed. The premise is that most of the stress people have comes from the fact that they have all sorts of unresolved "stuff" in their minds--things that aren't where they need to be, which weigh down on their minds, attention, and energy. (For a great example of that, see the paragraph above.) The method is just a system for organizing all this "stuff" in such a way that you can get it off your mind, trusting that your system will remind you of all the things you need to do when, so you don't have to sit around trying to keep them all in your head at once, and so you don't let anything slip through the cracks.

Apparently there is already a cult following of this method, and I have to say, after trying it out for the last few days, I already feel much better. You basically start by collecting everything you have to do, want to do, dream of doing, and everything that is physically or mentally not where it needs to be, important or trivial, big or small, into one place. That is a catharsis in and of itself. Then now that you have everything together, you can process each one, deciding which stuff needs action and which stuff just needs to be filed away as reference material. Then you organize it all into a "system you trust" so that you'll see all the things you are supposed to do, when you're supposed to do them, and review the system regularly, so you can get all those things out of your mind until you need to actually do them. And it also makes it much easier to choose which things to do at any given point, based on whether there are deadlines for some things, or whether it's just convenient to do them at the moment.

I still don't think I'm totally done implementing the system for myself; I haven't quite finished the last sections of the book, and I'm still waiting for a bigger file cabinet I ordered so I could organize once and for all the piles of papers I have in various parts of my house. But already in the past few days, I've gotten more done than I have in weeks, and I have this nice new feeling that I'm actually *not* forgetting something really important, and that I don't need to be racking my brains at every moment trying to remember whether I need to put out any fires I may have forgotten about. It's a *very* new feeling, so I still catch myself wanting to obsess about something, but I could definitely get used to living like this, and actually letting myself relax once in a while!

There are plenty of online overviews about this method, such as the ever trusty Wikipedia, or the official website, or the many, many blogs devoted to discussing its details, like 43 Folders, whose author actually came to my company to give a presentation about how to manage one's email inbox, interestingly. But the only real way to see this method in all its splendor is to read the book, Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen. It may seem all like common sense, or even like the level of detail described in the book is a bit on the anal-retentive side. But that's the beauty of it too; it is all common sense, but just integrated into a full system that works, and it is rigid in principle but flexible in implementation. And, if you're anything like me, it could be just what you need.

Anyway, I have yet to see if I can maintain it, or elements of it, in the long term, but I really hope so. And so far, so good....


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Tuesday, October 09, 2007

boppin' on the BART

What do Kanye West, Bjork, Puccini, Sheryl Crow, Stars, Saves The Day, and Jacques Brel all have in common (aside from obviously being musicians)?

Well, they all played a part in making my day. I won't get into the gory details of how frustrated, discouraged, and just plain uncomfortable I felt by the time I left work today to go on my typical Monday trek--driving to Fremont (30-50 min), taking the BART up to North Berkeley (55 min), PME rehearsal (2.5 hrs), waiting for the BART in the cold (15-20 min), BART ride down (55 min) and a sleepy and at times dangerous drive home (40 min). I always dread that drive home; by the time I get to Fremont it's about 11:30pm, I'm super-tired and rather chilly even when I didn't forget to bring a scarf and a jacket.

But today I gave the ole iPod a go, something I actually surprisingly haven't done in a while. Actually, it's usually hit or miss with my iPod; I find that I have so much of a variety of music that the songs that come up in shuffle mode almost never match my current mood. I don't have the patience or decisiveness to sit around making playlists for said moods, either.

This time, though, I don't know if it was my kickass Sony headphones or what, but every song I listened to brought back either a flood of memories or felt so fulfilling and exciting in its own unique way. First it was Kanye, with the usual awesome sample of some old song sped up, and really chill yet poignant message. Then it was "Hunter" and "Joga" by Bjork, two of my favorite, favorite songs. Her music has this way of making me feel heartbroken and ecstatic at the same time. I love the balance between the clever rhythms, percussion, and sound effects, and the warm, passionate string instruments, as well as her vocals, which also alternate between lots of electronic distortion and naked humanity. And the lyrics are often vague to the point of sounding almost random, yet they convey strong emotions and paint vivid pictures at the same time.

Then it was "Soak Up the Sun" by Sheryl Crow, which I still like even though it was seriously overplayed on the radio when it came out, which always makes me feel like I'm driving in Miami or SoCal or something.

By the time Jacques Brel came on with a ridiculously silly song in French, I was just in awe of how much meaning music can convey, how much variety and freedom it offers, how much history and personality it immortalizes in every song. That's when I heard a song by the Stars, talking about wanting one more chance
to be "young and wild and free." And Saves the Day, emoting with a
mixture of angstful vocals and really beautiful guitar progressions. By then, I was caught in that exquisite bittersweet feeling of being transported by music, in which I am both grateful to be there, anxious to become even more fully immersed, and in grief that the feeling is always so fleeting.

For someone who has been involved with music in some form her whole life, I often miss that feeling. There are so many times when my focus is on worrying whether I'm sounding good, analyzing music performances for technical accuracy, fretting about my improvisation skills, thinking I'll never be a good enough musician, feeling self-conscious on the dance floor, feeling guilty about not practicing enough, getting stressed about rehearsal schedules, or simply being too wound up to let myself be moved by music. It's so easy to lose sight of the raw power of music; it really only gives you as much as you can let it at any given moment.

That's totally how I feel about love in general. People who lack compassion, or who despair, are just blocking themselves off from the most nourishing thing in this world. We do it to protect ourselves, we do it out of fear, we do it out of doubt. But it's moments like these that make me remember why life is worth living, and living fully. Music is love, baby.


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Saturday, October 06, 2007

Gotta love open source.

Hello blog,

Well, I have to 'fess up. I haven't been sure whether this blogging thing is working for me; I think I'm having a crisis of purpose here. I think I partly made this blog for the wrong reasons--like, wanting to be able to journal my innermost thoughts somewhere on a regular basis. But, hm, maybe an actual private journal would be better for that sort of thing! That way, I won't have an urge to write something and then think, "...but do I really want to share this piece of personal information with the online world?" Besides, I think my readership (which, I believe, has consisted of a few of my good friends and loved ones--thanks people!) will get tired of all of the internal monologue, sprinkled with occasional angst, that goes on inside my head. And finally, there are other, less internal ways to examine the amount of "l-o-v-e," or lack thereof at times, in the world, that don't involve reporting on the daily (or bimonthly, as seems to be the case here) temperature of my own moods.

So, with that in mind, I'm going to attempt to shift my theme ever so slightly outward, to things that are happening out in the big wide world. Hopefully I've absorbed enough KQED, Newsweek, NYTimes, Food Network, and self-help books to have some interesting things to say here. Time will only tell if it's enough to keep this li'l' blog o' mine shiny.

Oh yeah, open source. So the Jaguar of this mid-blog-life crisis of mine is ScribeFire, which is supposed to be an indispensible aid to more efficient blogging. And it's free! So far, in the 3 minutes I've used it, I'm liking it.

Much love, my friends.


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