I sometimes delay getting started on big projects because I know that once I get going I’ll want to finish.
I manage this dislike of incomplete circuits by breaking larger projects up into smaller projects that are more digestible and juggle-able, which helps dilute the distraction I can otherwise feel when I know I’ve got an open loop somewhere that I could be closing, but I am instead off doing other things like eating, sleeping, meeting with friends, or working on other projects.
Part of how I know it’s time to settle in and just knock out one of the larger chunks of a still-larger project is when I can feel a sense of momentum behind my actions: I’ve done enough preparation that every unit of effort provides an outsized quantity of productivity and value, so something that might have necessitated a painfully long slog instead takes relatively less time to accomplish—both literally and perceptually.
Sometimes generating that momentum is tricky because it requires not just consistent effort in a given direction, but consistent effort in a given direction over time: focus.
When there are other things going on in your life that demand a portion of your energetic wherewithal, you can typically still generate enough propulsive power to keep that momentum building, if more gradually than you might prefer.
But if there are a sufficient number of demands, each siphoning a sliver of your overall capacity, your drive can be depleted and your momentum can slow to a crawl.
I’ve been in Milwaukee for about a month, now, and though I’ve gotten quite a lot done during that period, my productivity has been dispersed across a large number of ambitions. This has largely prevented the prioritization of any one of those many ambitions.
Just getting set up, buying some furniture, dealing with all the legal implications of moving to a new state, and learning the fundamentals about my new home base has occupied a good portion of my time and attention. Likewise for building a social life and starting fresh in a new region: a routine that isn’t entirely unfamiliar to me, but which is more obscure than usual because of the ongoing plague-context (which has many of us feeling unsure about how physically being around other people works and should work).
There are also random variables that can pop up in any environment that will periodically demand our time and attention.
My car was stolen a few days ago, for instance. And though I got it back, the catalytic converter was sawed off by whomever took it.
So I’m in the process of both accounting for that (surprisingly large) expense and figuring out the logistics of getting the necessary repair and replacement performed in an area where such thefts are increasingly common (and, consequently, where there’s a delay associated with the procedures necessary if I want to get back to my previous, automotive status quo).
Things are coming together here in Milwaukee, and my ambition to establish this city as a home base from which I can comfortably and happily and productively work and build relationships and just live, but from which I can also casually explore, travel, and engage with the rest of the world, is coming to fruition.
It’s a more ponderous process than I had anticipated, though, because the intense focus I’m usually able to muster has been difficult to establish, given the circumstances and variables at play, but also because the tasks I’m undertaking and keen to undertake are not mono-directional ambitions, they’re multifaceted and require simultaneous attention from many different angles.
Which isn’t a bad thing: I’m learning a lot and enjoying (most) of what I’ve experienced here, so far.
It’s been educational, and I’m probably going to have to rework my momentum heuristic to account for these sorts of situations in which it’s not practical or even necessarily desirable to maintain the sort of focus to which I’ve become accustomed.
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