I keep a coffee cup in my office that has one word printed on it: SIMPLIFY.
I am constantly trying to simplify my life.
One of the ways I simplify my life is to develop systems … I’m a system kind of guy. I like to develop repeatable systems for solving problems or performing tasks, and I’ll follow that system the rest of my life if possible.
For example, when I’m teaching adult Bible study in my church, I have a definite system and rhythm for preparation. I have a specific way to gather and capture information, a specific way to put my notes down on paper, and a specific way to compose the lesson – down to the color of pens I write with and the color of paper I write on. Some may think I border on compulsive behavior, but I prefer to believe I have found a system that works and I am sticking to it.
For some people such a rigid system might stifle their creativity, but for me, it gives it birth. Working within this structure allows the creative free-flying part of my brain to work all week long on new insights and pointed stories and clever angles. I am free to be creative because I’m not fretting over getting the lesson done on time … for that, all I have to do is follow my plan. So for me, a highly developed system not only simplifies my life, it makes me more creative.
But there is a downside to System Boy. Because I know that once I develop a perfect system for a task I’ll be successful and happy, I often spend way too much time on the front end trying to get it perfect. It’s possible for me to start and re-start so often I never accomplish the actual project. I find myself stuck in the world of imaginary significance and never get it done.
To avoid that dilemma I’ve added a new word to my life: prototype. Now, anytime I’m building a spreadsheet to solve an engineering problem or gathering information for a speech or arranging my gear for a backpacking trip, I remind myself: This doesn’t have to be the perfect be-all end-all system, it’s only a prototype. In fact, I have to say the actual words to myself out loud: “This is only a prototype.” As soon as I say it, my spirit relaxes and I calm down because I just gave myself permission to make mistakes. I’m a better problem solver knowing I’m working on prototypes rather than final solutions. That one word has simplified my life.
Similar to that word “prototype” is the computer function of “undo.” What a great invention of our generation! Isn’t it a relief knowing you can click on the undo button and go back a step? I am braver and riskier knowing I can undo. Undo make my life simpler.
I my quest for simplification, I recently read a book by John Maeda titled, of course, “The Laws of Simplicity. Maeda gave this example: “In the days of typewriters, it was the tab key that could lend the magic possibility of creating order from chaos.”
Isn’t that cool how something so simple, a tab key, can change chaos to order? That’s what I am looking for when I try to simplify my life. I want to bring order to chaos.
There are limits to what I’ll for the sake of simplification. I could simplify by moving out into the desert and get rid of my phone and computer, but I don’t want to live in that kind of stripped-down life. I’m not comfortable living in the bush on a permanent basis. That is not simple to me.
One of my attractions to backpacking is the balancing act of weight against comfort. To be really comfortable up on top of the Guadalupes means I’d have to carry so much gear on my back I’d never make it to the campsite. But if I pare down my gear to the absolute minimum insuring I can carry it easily, I won’t enjoy my stay in the mountains because I’ll be so uncomfortable. So I have to ask the question of every piece of equipment: “Is this worth its weight?”
John Maeda wrote: “Simplicity is about subtracting the obvious and adding the meaningful.” Unfortunately it isn’t always easy to distinguish the obvious from the meaningful ahead of time. The distinction comes through the living, as we are doing, on the fly. Pieces of backpacking gear, as well as spreadsheets and Bible study methods, have to earn their way into my pack.
I was just thinking today that I’ve really appreciated your blogging, friend. Here again, I find myself pondering through similar issues. I’ve realized it’s time to focus in on the best a bit more and let some of the good go. Thanks for providing some encouraging words along the way.
i second Parke. simplicity. the word itself is soothingly, disarmingly powerful.
funny…when you mentioned backpacking I immediately thought of the fact that an action we consider quite simple –i.e. the act of walking — is actually a quite risky and almost miraculous process. Walking itself is little more than controlled falling. there is a moment in the middle of a step when everything is up for grabs. unlike four footed animals or two-footed animals with a tail, our kind has nothing to balance our upright stance much less our walking. Each step is an act of faith. What could be more simple than that?