Slow Productivity In Real Life
my favorite venn diagram
You can listen to an audio version of this newsletter above. Please note that this is unedited and I’m recording in my home office, so you may hear some meows, raindrops, or traffic in the background.
Before we dive in, I want to remind you that I’ll be joining Dr. Katy Peplin of Thrive PhD from 10am-2pm EST on Wednesday, May 10, 2023 to run the workshop Structure as a Path to Sustainability, a one-stop shop for overcoming overwhelm and lighting the way towards completing your next self-directed writing project. The workshop will be recorded and shared with everyone who signs up, so if you can’t attend live, that’s okay!
You’ll leave the workshop with personalized productivity plans, repeatable project templates, and deeper clarity on how to structure your days with more compassion and flexibility so you can make progress on your terms. Whether you’re at the very beginning or want to hit refresh without starting from scratch, this workshop is for you! Signups will open the last week of April, so stay tuned for more information.
Last week I waxed poetic about creative writing as a form of alchemy. Today’s letter extends my discussion of loving language to examine Venn Diagrams, and further, Slow Productivity. To get us there, I want to set the scene: a grad school party at my friend Kelin’s, surrounded by folks who were as nerdy about language as I was, playing a word game called “Raspberry Beret.”
The goal of the game was to choose two random words—like music and food—and folks would try to guess what word was equidistant between the two. Music + food = Raspberry Beret because it’s a song by Prince. You might have also gotten to “Raspberry Beret” from the combo of tunes and threads.
If two people thought they knew the ideal meeting point of the two words, they would count down from three and shout their answers at the same time. If they were wrong and called out different words, like “country fair” and “dinner party,” then those two words became the new prompt. What word could combine country fair and dinner party? Perhaps a picnic?
I love this game because it’s basically a Venn Diagram, exposing a hidden meaning we can only see when we overlap two different pieces of information. Venn Diagrams are like enrichment treats for my brain; they satisfy me and allow me to communicate something that is special because I alchemized it myself from two different ideas. I used a Venn Diagram in my wedding vows: I was one circle, Kris was the other, and our life together was the overlap. Nerdy and romantic.
I’m not suggesting that Venn Diagrams are infallible. Life is complex and throwing two disparate ideas into a Venn Diagram isn’t going to create a magic solution to all problems. Flattening ideas into sets (the technical term for what goes in each circle) assumes that groups of ideas/people/things behave in the same ways and do so all the time, which is not always true.
Venn Diagrams are good teaching tools for things that are set—alphabets, numbers, etc.
And they’re also good for imagining new possibilities.
Hence Slow Productivity.
I brought my favorite thinking tool into my work with Slow Productivity in 2019. I was new to the concept of slow living thanks to Brooke McAlary’s podcasts The Slow Home Podcast (now The Tortoise) and Let It Be, which was co-hosted with Kelly Exeter. I was teaching myself productivity through trial and error, which I documented in a blog post each week from 2018-2019 at TheTendingYear.com/blog.
While slow living isn’t exclusively about productivity, I found applying it as a lens actually improved my practice with my productivity. At the time, I was experiencing terrible lower back pain and coming to terms with my workaholism. Learning to approach my productivity slowly helped me continue to progress on my goals without spiraling into overworked exhaustion.
Although one is about maximizing and one is about minimizing, the overlap between productivity and slow living feels nourishing. One of my big gripes with productivity how-to guides is they promise a one-size-fits-all approach, telling us that anyone can find success if they’re willing to do A, B, C, and D. My chronic illness prevented me from accessing a lot of the best practices I witnessed (particularly waking up early: no thanks).
But Slow Productivity helped me to imagine new things that don’t exist yet. To envision a new world where people can thrive in the fields of knowledge work (academia, entrepreneurship, creative and art-based work, etc.) without burning themselves out trying to keep up with an inaccessible speed and output.
My most popular Instagram post is this version of a pie chart where I attempted to summarize my personal approach to Slow Productivity in eight quadrants. Over time I’m sure that the pie pieces will shift, and some may resonate with you more than others, so I welcome you to take what works and leave the rest. I weave all of these tools into the workshops I offer to universities and have found that undergrad, grad students, postdocs, and faculty all find a particular thing that resonates for them.
I practice Slow Productivity through
Setting actionable (I know what to do) and achievable (it’s accessible to me) goals
Establishing boundaries around my availability
Bringing intention to my decision-making (for example, checking in with myself before I say “yes” to an opportunity)
Paying attention to my personal resources (time, energy, focus, etc.) and using spoon theory
Reserving blank space in my day to rest between meetings
Scheduling time for reflection
Valuing prep time and thinking work (or as I’d call it, invisible or behind-the-scenes labor) as real work
Giving myself permission to do “good enough” instead of aiming for perfect
What about you?
If you created a Venn Diagram for your own productivity practices, what would you write in the circles—Is it one of your values? A personal goal you set this year? Is it slow living, like me? I’m curious, so please let me know in the comments.
Curiosities
This section of my letters is for things that made me say “hmmm” or “wow!” recently.
“Cool People Accidentally Saved America’s Feet” by Amanda Mull for The Atlantic. This was a fun article written about how people in our 30s-40s (that’s me, I’m 36) wrecked our feet with questionable shoes. Now that we’re a bit older and many folks have more disposable income, we’ve created what Mull calls “ugly-cool orthopedic shoes” that actually support our feet. My go-to shoes for as long as I can remember are a pair of black Doc Marten slip-on Chelsea boots with added insoles. This year my summer shoes—when it’s truly too hot to get away with a pair of boots—will be a cool pair of Teva’s with velcro straps in muted jewel tones. Cute! Comfy!
For Your Consideration
Follow me on Instagram
My offerings: 1-on-1 Coaching and workshops (10% discount for paid subscribers)
Sign up for the waitlist for Perceptible Progress: A Goals Course
Order my book, Tend to It: A Holistic Guide to Intentional Productivity
Listen to my podcast interviews
xo,
Dr. Kate
My word for the year is flourish. I have noticed that I flourish more when there is less clutter around me. So I would add something about tidying/decluttering to my Venn diagram.
I’m in the middle of a 100 days of decluttering. I’ve done 100-day projects before but always drawing, so decluttering is new. It sounds like a lot but my goal is 5 minutes a day, and it can be a daily photo declutter. I am seeing the value in a slow declutter, one item at a time (although we have done a full-day declutter of our garage and there’s value in that too).
I am loving the blank spaces I’m creating on countertops, and intentionally keeping things I value. 5 minutes a day is a reasonable goal, even on hard days. I give myself permission to do a quick digital photo declutter and call it “good enough”. Taking stuff to the thrift store or getting a big pile of recycling out also counts. I see so many similarities with my slow decluttering and your Venn diagram.
Order is a personal value for me.