Disconnecting from Distraction

It is heartening that the yearning for learning is the most powerful of all human cravings (though it applies equally to obtaining the wisdom of Zeus or the YouTube video on how to peel a banana like a monkey). Yet the sea surrounding the Sirens was littered with corpses. Can increased knowledge really destroy us?

I'm not wishing the Internet away. It has become so integral to my work -- to my life -- that I honestly can't recall what I did without it. But it has allowed us to reflexively indulge every passing interest, to expect answers to every fleeting question, to believe that if we search long enough, surf a little further, we can hit the dry land of knowing "everything that happens" and that such knowledge is both possible and desirable. In the end, though, there is just more sea, and as alluring as we can find the perpetual pursuit of little thoughts, the net result may only be to prevent us from forming the big ones.

Yesterday after suffering through a network disruption which occurred because someone forgot to pay the telecom bill, I was giving some thought to revisiting some of the strategies I used to use to continue working disconnected. Strategies I used to use before all data was only in the cloud and connectivity was seemingly ubiquitous.

Using non-browser based applications; cueing uploads and mail; Mamp for development and local web applications; and importantly, scheduling specific tasks for when connectivity is available were all things I used to do and was thinking of writing briefly about.

Reading Peggy Orensteins article, when I was supposed to be writing an email to a potential partner, reminded me of just how productive I am when I don't have this ability to answer the questions and diversions in my head constantly at my fingertips.

Earlier this year I used to tell teammates how the most productive time of the day was when I was walking my dogs early in the morning in the woods near our house. I accomplished more in that hour than I might all day.

I used to travel to Thailand almost every month to do much of the same. I loved writing presentations and speeches sitting in a café in Chiang Rai. No distractions and an invigorating massage afterwords. Why spend all afternoon browsing online galleries and blogs searching for design inspiration when you can visit local artisans in Chiang Mai? These combined work/play excursions were incredibly enjoyable and productive. While Thailand is out of reach for most surely there is a local alternative?

Peggy's article illustrates the problem that having the "instrument of our productivity merged with that of our distraction" prevents us from getting the important things done. The freedom to search and find the answers to every fleeting thought in our mind prevents us from forming bigger associations. She suggests the use of Freedom, software for MacOS X that blocks internet access for up to 8 hours at a time, but while I am going to give it a try, I think removing oneself from the office entirely might be the most effective.

When was the last time you used a library for research, wrote a blog post with pen and paper, or created a new product concept with pencil and sketchbook in the woods? It seems incredibly simple, to unplug entirely, but that means it might just work.

Stop Your Search Engines

Disconnecting from Distraction

It is heartening that the yearning for learning is the most powerful of all human cravings (though it applies equally to obtaining the wisdom of Zeus or the YouTube video on how to peel a banana like a monkey). Yet the sea surrounding the Sirens was littered with corpses. Can increased knowledge really destroy us? I'm not wishing the Internet away. It has become so integral to my work -- to my life -- that I honestly can't recall what I did without it. But it has allowed us to reflexively indulge every passing interest, to expect answers to every fleeting question, to believe that if we search long enough, surf a little further, we can hit the dry land of knowing "everything that happens" and that such knowledge is both possible and desirable. In the end, though, there is just more sea, and as alluring as we can find the perpetual pursuit of little thoughts, the net result may only be to prevent us from forming the big ones.

Yesterday after suffering through a network disruption which occurred because someone forgot to pay the telecom bill, I was giving some thought to revisiting some of the strategies I used to use to continue working disconnected. Strategies I used to use before all data was only in the cloud and connectivity was seemingly ubiquitous.