The Naked Truth About Getting Stuff Done
More ideas for wannabe creators + a Valentine's Day sale!
One of the stickiest blocks to getting stuff done, whether it’s writing, creating, or getting in shape, is the fallacy of preparation.
If your brain is like mine, it loves to fixate on all the things that need to be done to make oneself worthy of creating. There list of ablutions that prepare me for my sacred ritual are a dynamic and unpredictable list. There’s the pursuit of the uncluttered desk in the minimalist office featuring organic streaming sunshine and a vibe-coordinated cup of coffee. There’s the impulse to clean the entire house while I’m at it. Which reminds me, I need to run to Home Depot so I can fix that broken shelf…
This is why artists develop warm-up routines, which are as unique as the creator themselves.
Whiskey and big game for he who takes after Hemingway. Coffee and cocaine for the Thompson acolyte. Cigarettes and a couch for Capote devotees who insist on writing horizontally. Georgia O’Keefe, the spoiled little wench, was powered by the desert sunrise. Maya Angelou booked a hotel room and brought her own sherry and bible to feel the spirit move.
We love our rituals. And they’re Grade A resistance because the only thing we need to create is an implement and a will.
And yet “just doing it'“ proves so exceptionally challenging that we all agree to believe in something called writer’s block. As if the stream of magic that flows to us from the sun, the moon, our beloved’s laugh, or a drop of rain on a windowpane can be shut off. Like God is the cable company doing routine maintenance? Honey, no.
If a power line goes down and ideas aren’t flowing, it’s an inside job. All the more important to wade through the bureaucracy of doubt and distraction to find ourselves on the other side. It takes guts. One must muster the courage to embody your inner badass and get to work. And, despite our whiny minds, it’s not going to come from another hour of force-feeding yourself inspiring Instagram reels. Your warm-up routine will be crafted according to you, your state of mind, your penchant for punishment.
Consider French auteur Victor Hugo, who was so prone to distraction that he wrote naked and instructed his valet to hide his clothing from him until he had completed a chapter! That’s what I call commitment!
You must take your creative machete and hack through the resistance to discover your unique warmup routine. Not only will it help you get stuff done, it will shut down the hater’s voice in your head, and help you craft your legacy.
Let’s explore some options.
Indulge in the art of discovery.
Because our lives are completely run by our subconscious, and we think 90% of the same thoughts every single day, we must find ways to interrupt that programming in order to break from our routine and create something. I enlist the power of my senses. Next to my desk is a very expensive candle that smells like a curated melange of incredible things including wild basil. When I light that extravagant wick and allow my office to take on the scent of a dewy fairy garden, my brain remembers that it’s time to write.
This also works with tea flavors, cute lamps, meaningful prayers, and hype-up songs that you only sip, switch on, utter or play when you’re about to get into the zone. Try sitting quietly. Try moving your body. Do what feels good and keeps your mind laser focused on what’s going to happen next. Try your favorite artist’s routine first, then scrap it and find yours. Do that thing for 28 days before you write a couple paragraphs and you will be Pavlov’s favorite, slobbering at the sound of a powered-on laptop.
Careful, though. Once the neural pathway is in place, your brain will feel weird if your writing lamp is on and you’re not creating.
Fake it.
Creating is a muscle. When it’s out of practice, it feels weak and flabby. It can’t stand up to the mean voice in your head that gets off on telling you your voice doesn’t matter, you have no original ideas, and you’re cringey. Blah, blah, blah.
Shut her up. Think of your creativity like a lawnmower. When it’s been sitting in the shed all winter, it needs a little help to get going. So rev up your writing muscle anyway you possibly can.
Give yourself so-simple-they’re-stupid prompts to get your mind going.
Last night I dreamed that… (vroom)
I get so annoyed when… (vroom!)
I cannot wait until… (AND we’re off!)
The prompt doesn’t matter. You just need to start writing to get the dust off your brain and get your momentum going to beat the “I have nothing to say” resistance. You’ll be delightfully surprised when some of these prompts yield cute little pieces of writing, too. Anytime we divorce ourselves from the expectation of perfection (or even goodness), fun things happen.
Know what works and what doesn’t.
In my golf bag, there is a club that I can hit well about 20% of the time. I keep it in my bag because I need that kind of club and I take my chances, although 80% of the time my dream of hitting the ball 165 years down the middle of the fairway remains a fantasy.
A capable golfer should be able to use any club in their bag. A committed writer should be able to write anytime, any place. But I know my weaknesses. And working with my strengths makes my life a lot less painful.
I fantasize about writing in the early morning. Sunshine, coffee, and an empty page. But my writing brain is decidedly crepuscular if not outright nocturnal. She comes to life when the world is quiet and the to-do lists of the day have been conquered.
If I try to get into the flow state before 8pm, the results are pathetic. I am scrawling distracted half-thoughts in between to-do list tasks. It may be “writing” but it’s certainly not flow, because I’m thinking about the goings-on in the world and wondering what I’m missing. So now I don’t even think about writing until the sun has ceased taunting me through the window.
Make or break.
There is one factor that will decide the fate of your creative pursuits: whether you’re obsessed with the results, or in love with the process.
Of course you’re going to love the results of your creativity. They’re sexy and shiny.
Holding my book HALF WILD in my hands was cool, but didn’t even compare to the feeling of the nights I stayed home to finish a chapter, writing into the wee hours with tears streaming down my face. (P.S. I just found a box of first editions and want to run a little Valentine’s Day clearance sale. Get your copy on Etsy and use code SUBSTACK to save. ❤️❤️❤️)
The more you fixate on the results - the finished book, the album, the mural, the hot body, the million dollar bank account - the more distance you create between your reality and your idealized outcome. As a result, your motivation oozes out of you like the air from a bouncy castle when the party is done.
So rather than attach to the illusion of the results, become obsessed with the process through which the results will naturally, probably imperceptibly, emerge. Then watch as you fall in love with the version of yourself that makes the space and time to create.
Because the pain of not creating will eat you alive. It will nag at you and make you feel like garbage, and you don’t deserve that. There is a part of you that is dying to bring something new into this world, and we deserve to see it. More importantly, we can’t wait to meet the version of you who shows up for yourself with consistency, commitment, and creativity. The joy of holding something you have created, even if it’s kind of janky, is totally worth it.