Make it fun

I wrote earlier that it helps a lot to accomplish new things if you find a way to make it fun, do it just once, and smile.

I wanted to share a specific example of how i was recently able to make it fun.

My goal was to walk Cosmo, my dog, everyday. The first few days were tolerable, but after four days, i had little motivation left to get outside with him. The problem, of course, was that it wasn’t any fun for me.

Cosmo is very hyper and energetic, so when i would take him out, it was a constant tug of war. I suppose this is in part due to the fact that he was never really trained (which is another goal i am working on as part of this).

It was then the fifth night, and i had skipped taking him for a walk during the day. I had established a nightly routine of bike riding. It is quite enjoyable to ride as fast as i want and wherever on the streets—the suburbs are dead at night.

Cosmo knew that i was getting ready to go out and ran and got his leash (something i taught him, he is doing quite well with it). It was difficult not to succumb to his whines and sad eyes, so i thought, why not bring him along?

I attached an active reflector to his collar and ditched the lease. The reflector served two purposes: so i could see where he went, and so—if any actually came—cars could see him, too. Though, i rarely see anyone after 23 or so around here.

He was free to run and roam where he wanted, and i simply rode my bike behind him.

After he tires himself out i bring him back inside and then go out again for a real workout on my bike. He could never keep up with how fast i ride.

Red in the winter

After hours of wandering, hopelessly lost in the forest’s early morning, he thought it best to rest. For the marked time, he built up a fire—small, but a great reprieve in the vast cold. Thereby he sat, holding the hands well nigh in the flames. After a tide he let it die down and set a tin cup filled with snow into the coals. He was lost, but not without tea.

 

From the jacket he withdrew his red, leather bound journal and slowly ran the fingers over the streaming, vein-like crinkles in its surface. He flipped it open and began to write new words therein.

 

It’s winter now, but all of my thoughts are on the coming spring.

 

After stones and stones have fallen, the snow will rise up to the earth shadowing clouds—whence it came. Thereafter will life too rise up from its seasonal slumber. There will be new mothers and children. There will be deep greens and pink squinting eyes. Life will bloom.

 

Too weak to withstand the winter winds, some will die, and the allmother will call them back—whence they came.

 

And so winter is a time to keenly gaze within. I look inside myself and ask what lies therein: will i—too? Will i run strongly beneath the spring’s white and blue, and among its green? Will i stumble into black, unseen?

 

His watery eyes fell down and starred at the nigh empty cup resting in the lap. He raised the tin to the lips and tipped the head back. The last—now cold—drops of tea trickled into the mouth. He set the cup on ground beside him and wondered about the words.

 

Suddenly, breaking the flow of anxious thoughts, he rubbed the eyes, breathed quickly in, then out, and determinedly stood up. He stowed away the journal and kicked the coals around, killing what of the fire lingered.

 

Therefrom he went, and each step he walked was made with the sureness of a stone. He wayfared the span of hundreds of tree lengths, finally stopping where the trees were not—a frozen lake.

 

He stood at the edge of the rotting, wooden dock, which bravely stuck itself deeply into the fog. He pulled the journal again from the jacket and threw it into the snow that blanketed the ice. The deep red sept like blood thereinto. He took off his shoes and slid his feet forward to the edge. The toes curled thereover, squeezing so hard that they unkythed into the cold white below.

 

Swiftly he flailed his arms back, bent the numb knees, and pushed each limb against what it could. Lost no more, he flew into the heavy, gray sky.

 

But here i stand—and i choose to overcome it all. In winter i will not fall.

Becoming productive and developing motivation

Make it fun, do it just once, and smile. These are three key elements to increasing productivity and self-motivation.

Possibly the most important aspect to accomplishing the things you set out to do—and thus becoming productive—is your attitude and how you view your goals.

It is hard for me to have the motivation to do the nasty, boring, dreadful things, like cleaning out my closet or mowing the lawn. I would rather be doing other things—those just do not sound like any fun!

So to get those things done—to become productive and motivate yourself—you must make the activities fun and change your attitude theretowards.

For me, fun usually means a puzzle or a challenge. Mowing the lawn is actually enjoyable when i make it into a challenge: what is the shortest distance i can travel, and what is that path? To solve that i wrote a program that outputs a coordinate-based route. The next challenge is to memorize it, so i do not need the print out.

Challenges like this could be done real-time, as well: i am now very good at mowing my name into the lawn.

Sometimes before you can figure out how to make something fun, you must just do it—once. Doing it just once—a first time—also forces you to focus on what is now.

I recently realized that my diet has been quite poor after leaving university, and so i started to plan out how i would change it. I researched a lot about nutrition and started making a plan of what i would incorporate into my daily diet—so many vegetables, fruits, and so.

But that is where my fatal error occurred—one that i realized has constantly held me back in all of my endeavors for self improvement: losing focus on what is now, immediately in front of me.

Radically changing my diet in a matter of days is not a realistic goal—i realized that i would probably fail this. So i instead went to the kitchen with a new recipe i discovered in my research and cooked a meal. I also made it fun by learning a bit about the chemistry behind what i would be cooking.

There, now i have already begun to improve my diet. Instead of planning out a fantasy, dream diet, i did what i could in that very moment to improve it. Then i said to myself that i would do this once a day. Once i am consistently able to do this from day to day, i will increase the frequency.

I can continue to improve my diet forever, now. I can continue to set small, manageable—yet challenging—goals.

This is not to discourage planning, but instead to make the plans realistic. You must be careful, though, of not making the goals too easy, or not progressing. You know when something would be too easy for you. Remember, make it a puzzle or challenge—whatever motivates you to get it done.

So just try something once. See what you can do now. Last night i told myself i wanted to start flossing my teeth regularly again—so i went and flossed.

If you want to change something, try changing it now.

After i cooked that meal i smiled. I had accomplished something i set out to! It was a good feeling.

Congratulate yourself once you have made something fun, and done it just once. You did it! You are the only person who can make you happy, so just smile, knowing you are not on your way, you are there. You have just been productive. Keep it up.

What is one thing you would like to change? Maybe it is to take your dog for a walk more often. So get out the leash, see how many paces it is to the park and back, and smile.

Make it fun, do it just once, and smile.

In winter

It’s winter now, but all of my thoughts are on the coming spring.

After stones and stones have fallen, the snow will rise up to the earth shadowing clouds—whence it came.  Thereafter will life too rise up from its seasonal slumber. There will be new mothers and children. There will be deep greens and pink squinting eyes. Life will bloom.

Too weak to withstand the winter winds, some will die, and the allmother will call them back—whence they came.

And so winter is a time to keenly gaze within. I look myself inside and ask what lies therein: will i—too? Will i run strongly beneath the white and blue, and among the green? Will i stumble into black, unseen?

The playwrights of the heavens died when i looked up with searing eyes and saw them not. I myself must shape what is for me to come.

Now blows the wind, stinging the cheeks and making the nose raw. In the cold white the feet are numb, the hands unfeeling. But here i stand—and i choose to overcome it all. In winter i will not fall.