I learned something very important about myself this past month.  I learned that I possess a pretty dumb brain.  Yes, you heard me right.  My brain is dumb.  On top of losing something very important, I found myself constantly putting stuff down, only to step away and forget where I put it.  I’m still fairly young, so I know it can’t be age doing this to me.  The only thing it could be is that I’m not keeping things simple enough for my poor brain.  This is really starting to get out of hand, so I’ve spent some time thinking about how to keep my brain on track.  Here are just a few things I came up with.

Establish central collection points.

As I go through my day, I find myself collecting little stuff that fits in my pockets.  At various times throughout the day, I empty my pockets (usually fairly indiscriminately), and press on.  By the end of the day, I find little piles of stuff scattered around everywhere that I’ve been.  That’s great if you’re looking for me; you can just follow my trail to find me.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t help me when I go to find all of that stuff.  So, in order to combat this bad habit of leaving trails of pocket change and receipts, I have designated specific places as holding areas for that stuff until I can use it.  This is essentially the idea of an inbox.

Normally, I carry an Axio Messenger bag (awesome bag, by the way) to work with me, so finding a place to stash collected stuff through the day is fairly simple.  As soon as I get back into my office, I unload my pockets into the outside pocket of the bag, so that I can deal with it when I have more time.  At home, I have a Pelican Micro case that I use to drop the little stuff into, rather than scattering it all over the top of the dresser.

This may all sound overly simple, but there’s a key point to making it all work.  Every collection spot has to be purged regularly, otherwise your dresser will eventually disappear under a mountain of change, receipts, pens from the bank, etc.  You get the idea.

Routines don’t stunt creativity, they make room for it.

For a while, I was afraid that getting too settled into routines would stunt my ability to be creative.  After all, spontaneity makes life so much more interesting, right?  Well, it probably does make life more interesting, but remember, I’ve got a dumb brain.  After a while, I figured out that too much spontaneity and not enough routine led to bouncing from task to task with little completion.  What’s worse, my poor dumb brain would get so confused.  It was really quite awful!  The solution turned out to be a simple change in diet.

I love apple pie.  And in my opinion, apple pie is far more interesting than broccoli.  But do you know what would happen to me if I ate two-thirds of an apple pie for dinner every night?  Use your imagination.  It just would not be good!  Routine and spontaneity are kind of like that.  Most of life is lived within the realm of some sort of routine.  Get up, shower, brush your teeth, and so on:  our days are made up of routines!  By keeping steady, well settled routines, I have found that it not only keeps my stuff where I can find it; but it also keeps my mind clear and fresh for those, “out of the norm” things that inevitably come my way.  Additionally, a clear mind is definitely necessary for creativity.

In working at being more routine oriented, I’ve had to consciously remember that my routines have to be fluid.  In other words, I can’t let my world come crashing down whenever something out of the ordinary hits.  In order to be successful, routines have to be able to absorb the shock of the unexpected.  Resist the urge to run around frantically crying, “The sky is falling!”  It will be okay.  Deal with unexpected in the most appropriate way you can come up with, then rejoin your routine.

Simple, Simpler, Simplest

As I write this, my family and I are preparing to move halfway around the world.  Our household goods left a month ago, and we are starting to figure out the difference between essential and non-essential.  In one sense, I’m finding myself to be much happier, overall.

Now, before I go any further, let me make this one thing clear.  I’m not talking about a monastic sort of simplicity.  Most of us could not live with just a rug, a bed mat, and a rough wood table.  Also important to remember, is that luxury is subjective.  What one person considers an essential, another would consider a luxury.  So, let’s try to approach this from a strictly personal perspective and not worry about others, for now.

The goal of simplicity here is simply to make it easier for our brains to process what it needs to without having to be distracted by that shiny thing in the corner of the room or without getting lost in a garden maze on our way to the picnic.  The key here is to figure out how to minimally do what it takes to accomplish the task or goal.

I love developing processes and procedures for problematic situations.  If I see something that strikes me as bloated or inefficient, I’m strangely and inexplicably drawn to it, like a moth to a bug zapper, (and usually with a similar effect).  Many of my early process-improvement projects ended in processes that resembled a Rube Goldberg machine (looked fancy and complex, and got the job done via the “scenic route”).  I soon learned that complicated processes didn’t always result in efficient methods; just more complicated ones.  It took some trial and error, but I eventually figured out that the most efficient processes are the simplest and most straight-forward ones.

I’ve come to believe that most things in life are that way.  If you find that you’re getting lost in the process (or your environment for that matter), simplify it until you don’t get lost anymore.  It’s as simple as that.

Learning As We Go

Obviously, none of this is “rocket science.”  But, it isn’t natural for most people either, and certainly not for me.  Most of it has to do with learning what works, cutting out what doesn’t, and improving on what you find.  It’s similar to almost everything in our lives that could use improvement.  But, it all started when I realized that I have a dumb brain.