🌊 The Plunge #9: G.S.D.S. (Get Shit Done - Slowly)
And importantly: Snail Slime, Magic Wands, and Turning 40
It has been a MINUTE, Diving Board readers! In this post, I’ll tell you all about what’s kept me from filling your inboxes lately and how you and I both can make peace with growing slowly. Let’s dive in.
In the lead-up to my 35th birthday, life was harried. Freshly launched as a solopreneur while parenting a 2- and 5-year-old and renovating a house, I was sweating it like Richard Simmons in a gorilla suit at a hot yoga party.
My coach at the time, Paul, did that beautiful thing coaches do called “holding space”. He witnessed my swirl, my frantic pace, my gasps for breath. During one coaching session, right before I turned 35, Paul smiled without judgment and sagely offered, “Only the ego rushes.”
Part of me thought, Shut up, Paul. I don’t have time for this.
Another part of me relaxed into those words, felt them as a kind of feather bed, a permission I could sink into.
On the day I turned 35, while vacationing in California, I left our condo early in the morning to go for a solitary birthday hike, hoping that would help my buzzing brain slow down to something resembling vacation speed. I stepped out of the front door, then stopped in wonder.
Right before me on the walkway sat a big, beautiful snail, a trail of iridescent slime shimmering in its wake.
Less than a foot away, I spotted another snail, and another, and another. I began to count; between my front door and the street, nearly two dozen snails lazed their way through the morning. Awestruck, I lay my belly down on the asphalt, chin perched in my hands, and watched how slowly those snails moved, how un-rushed they were, how their sparkly artwork on the pavement proved they had in fact made slow but meaningful progress.
I believed, and still believe, the snails were God’s way of showing me, viscerally and enchantingly, what it really looks like to slow down. Only the ego rushes.
I Got Busy
I’m a productivity addict by nature. Since the Day of the Snails, I’ve managed to wake up a bit to this truth and slow down the overall pace of my life, though I’ve still got a long way to go. (Even writing that sentence makes me think, “A long way to go!? I’d better hurry! Wait….no.)
If you’ve been reading The Diving Board, you know I’m currently working on launching a new phase of my career. I’m hoping to become an Author & Speaker, in addition to continuing my work as an Executive & Team Coach. I’m aiming to find a publisher for the book I’m writing.
2024 got off to a slow start in terms of my coaching and leadership development (aka, paid) work. For the first time since leaving my corporate job, I started to seriously worry about cash flow. At the same time, all that unpaid time meant I was free to pour myself into launching this Substack and putting the finishing touches on my book proposal.
But in March, the floodgates opened, and I secured several new client contracts within a week’s time. Suddenly, I was busy again, making up for lost income and, you know, rushing. The last two months, I’ve been slammed.
I’m so grateful for the financial relief, yet that hasn’t stopped me from also grieving the loss of the free time that allowed me to move my writing goals forward so significantly early in the year.
Me, in my head: I launched my Substack and said I’d post weekly-ish1 and now everyone is probably like, “Where did Claire go?” (Really, I know no one is paying that much attention, but I’m talking about egotistical paranoia here, not logic.) Also, will my book EVER see the light of day?
Thankfully, someone else’s book came into my life at that moment, and the rest of this essay is about what you and I both can learn from it.
Slow Productivity
Cal Newport writes at the intersection of depth and productivity – two things I’ve always been naturally drawn to, all the while painfully aware of their inherent mutual tension. In my wildest dreams, I’m getting lots of shit done and deeply pondering the spiritual significance of it all. In my real life, it’s hard to do both.
I loved Newport’s earlier book Deep Work, so when I heard Slow Productivity: The Lost Art of Accomplishment without Burnout was coming, I eagerly awaited its release date.
Here’s the premise of Slow Productivity, as found in the book’s promotional blurb: “Our current definition of ‘productivity’ is broken… Long before the arrival of pinging inboxes and clogged schedules, history’s most creative and impactful philosophers, scientists, artists, and writers mastered the art of producing valuable work with staying power. [In Slow Productivity,] Newport deconstructs the absurdities inherent in standard notions of productivity, and then provides step-by-step advice for cultivating a slower, more humane alternative.”
Intriguing, right?!
I highlighted this book with abandon, filling its margins with asterisks and notes. Most importantly, this book whispered soothingly in my ear during a busy time, It’s ok that you’ve had to slow the pace of your writing to focus on other things for a while. The deeper work will be here when you have time. And across the span of your life, you have so, so much time.
The rest of this post shares how Slow Productivity is helping me reframe my current season and build a more sustainable future in my work. I hope these insights spark something new for you, as well.
There’s Really No Rush (Unless You Create One)
My journey towards launching this writing chapter of my career started a year ago. In the spring of 2023, I researched and planned. In the summer, I wrote most of a book proposal, including sample chapters. I hoped to launch my Substack in the fall, positioning me by winter 2023 to share my proposal with agents and publishers with clear evidence that I am “building a platform” or readership.
How it actually went: I didn’t launch my Substack until January 2024. I spent February getting into a regular writing rhythm and finalizing the book proposal. And then – the flurry of March and April hit, and I’ve been consumed with other work.
At this point it’s looking like I will not get my book proposal out to agents until June at the earliest – a full year after I started it, and half a year after I intended to send it out.
Frustrating? Yes. But Slow Productivity reminds me that getting something done quickly does not matter as much as getting it done sustainably.
The reality is, I need to earn an income. When paid work opportunities arrived, I needed to say yes to them. Earning income is a bigger priority than becoming a published author. So is living my life in way that prioritizes my most important relationships, my health and mental health, and even the enjoyment of life’s day-to-day rhythms.
Newport says, “You should give your efforts the breathing room and respect required to make them part of a life well-lived, not an obstacle to it.”
Meaningful Accomplishment vs. Pseudo-Productivity
Last weekend, my husband mowed our lawn for the first time this season, mercifully ridding our backyard of the dreaded dandelion jungle.
However, just a few days later, our backyard looked like this:
Prolific little suckers, aren’t they? No one can accuse dandelions of laziness. But their contributions are short-lived. Their seeds blow away, their lives are finite, they wither and are quickly forgotten.
A tree, in comparison, grows slowly, almost imperceptibly…much like a snail inching across pavement. Yet, over decades and even centuries, trees endure, becoming towers of shade and bestowers of oxygen.
Sometimes, I get fooled into believing that “dandelion productivity” equals meaningful accomplishment.
In reality, dandelions mirror what Newport calls “pseudo-productivity: the use of visible activity as the primary means of approximating actual productive effort”. The frenetic answering of emails and checking off of tasks gives me lots to show for my effort at the end of the week. But by the following week, nothing I did made a lasting impact. And the cycle starts all over again.
Instead, consider this:
“A key tenet of slow productivity is that grand achievement is built on the steady accumulation of modest results over time. This path is long. Pace yourself.”
- Cal Newport, Slow Productivity
When I’m frustrated that I still haven’t gotten my book proposal out to agents, and when I haven’t posted on Substack in weeks (ack!), I remind myself that I’m building a body of work not in days or weeks, but truly over the course of years. It’s ok to grow slowly.
Progress Happens in Waves
My favorite parts of Slow Productivity told stories of historical figures in the arts and sciences whose work changed the course of human history. Zooming in on the lives of these figures, we find that their contributions emerged as part of a long, unfolding body of work accomplished in alternating seasons of productivity and relative idleness. (Some produced nothing of lasting significance until the end of their careers, when decades of work came together into a magnum opus of sorts.)
Newport writes:
“When viewed at the fast scale of days and weeks, the efforts of historic thinkers like Copernicus and Newton can seem uneven and delayed. When instead viewed at the slow scale of years, their efforts suddenly seem undeniably and impressively fruitful.” […] “They were interested in what they produced over the course of their lifetimes, not in any particular short-term stretch…they didn’t feel pressure to be maximally busy every day.”
These world-changing knowledge workers sometimes took entire seasons completely off work (summering at the cottage, anyone?). They often rotated their attention to more pressing work until time allowed them to revisit the long-term projects they’d started. And then at times, they deeply immersed themselves in intense seasons of busyness devoted to the long-term projects that ultimately defined their careers. But these were seasons, not constant ways of working.
I don’t flatter myself that my book is any sort of magnum opus in the making. But writing it matters to me, and it’s okay if it gets done in ebbs and flows. Waves, like so many other phenomena found in nature, follow a natural rhythm defined by variability. I’ll follow that lead.
Taking an Appreciative Lens
Rather than lamenting what we haven’t done yet, how about acknowledging what we have done? In my case, becoming a writer involves so much more than just writing the book itself. It requires creating a whole ecosystem around the writing. In the span of a year, I’ve accomplished the following:
Landed on my “big idea” for a book, mapped out the entire chapter structure, and wrote a comprehensive 60-page proposal
Learned a ton about the publishing industry
Made meaningful progress on building a readership by posting more frequently on LinkedIn and by launching this Substack newsletter
Spoke publicly for the first time on my “big idea” book topic (more on that below!) and booked two more speaking gigs for later this year
Started the process of updating my professional brand and redesigning my website to integrate my writing work with my leadership development work (new website launches Summer 2024….probably) ;)
That’s a lot to be proud of! *Stops kicking self. Pats self on back.*
Another Birthday
I’ve got another birthday coming up this week – my 40th, in fact.
I’ll keep my eye out for snails and other signs and wonders. But what I’ve already witnessed is an act of love from my friend Nikki and my husband Rob, who partnered to create a book of messages from people who care for me. On the cover of the book is a word cloud made up of adjectives people shared when asked for 3 words about me. The bigger the word, the more people said it.
Some of these words don’t surprise me, but a couple of them really do: Brave. Courageous.
I don’t see myself that way.
As I’ve wondered what led people to call me brave, one thing occurred to me.
Yes, publicly aiming to do this thing called “becoming an author” is its own kind of bravery.
But for me, the real act of courage is being willing to accomplish that goal slowly, at a natural pace that honors not my ego, not my imagined audience, but the real me. Tenacious, tender, 40-year-old me.
What Are You Growing?
I’m so curious to hear what you’re taking away from this post. What are you growing, however slowly? What permission can you give yourself to accomplish that meaningful something at a more humane pace?
I’m grateful to be on this journey with you.
📘💚 I love all the threads I get to connect right now. My former coach, Paul, of “only the ego rushes” fame, just published his first book, which was (guess what?) many years in the making! Part of Me will reveal your hidden “inner team members” (which I assure you are running your life) and will give you tools for leading those parts of you more consciously. I guarantee this book will change how you see yourself forever. Purchase your copy here!
📆 Paul also certifies coaches in his Inner Team Dialogue methodology, which is one of THE best tools in my coaching toolbox. It’s always a wow for my clients. Coaches – sign up for a free live demo session here.
🤩 🎥 A few weeks back at the Center for Coaching in Organizations Summit, I presented for the first time on the “big idea” of my book. I’ve gotten really great feedback that motivates me to keep going with this project! For a limited time, CCO is offering the recording of my session free of charge. I’d love for you to check it out: "The Missing Piece of the Burnout Puzzle"! 🎉
🐧 Since I’ve got bravery on the brain, I invite you to watch these baby penguins jump off an ice cliff, an event never before captured on film. Go, little badasses, go!
💿💿 I’ve been LOVING 2024’s two mega-albums: Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter and Taylor Swift’s The Tortured Poets Department. ICYMI, I’m unapologetically a massive T-Swift fan, and the more I listen to TTPD the more I love it. But I have to say, Beyonce has really outdone herself, and Taylor, with Cowboy Carter. The beats, the twang, the stunning vocals. Cowboy hats off to you, Beyonce. Which album gets your Grammy vote?
In April, my family traveled to Disney World and Universal Studios for the first time. I could tell you so much about it, such as how incredible it felt to be at a stage in our family’s health journey that we could even make it through this trip without major issues. But I’ll just tell you about my very favorite moment, which occurred at Harry Potter world in Ollivander’s Wand Shop. My son Amos was the one lucky kid out of many in the room; he was chosen by Ollivander himself to undergo the wand selection process (in which the wand chooses the wizard, duh). It’s basically a re-enactment of the scene from the movie, which means Amos was Daniel Radcliffe for a few sparkling moments. After trying several no-go wands, he took the soulmate wand from Ollivander. Light shone on Amos’s face, a magical breeze swept back his hair as the music swelled (and the mother wept). After all he’s been through, he got a lucky break, and it thrilled us all.
My mom just came in town for a visit, well-timed to see my daughter Mabel perform at her voice recital last week! Love you, Mama! Keep singing, little Mabel!
🎂 It’s milestone birthday week at the Williams home! We just celebrated Amos’s 10th birthday over the weekend (vibe: chaotic trampoline park), and we’ll celebrate my 40th this weekend (vibe: intimate dinner party). HBD to us, and Happy Whatever Is Happening to you!
Thank you so much for reading The Diving Board. Now, get back in there!
It’s clear to me now I will not be posting weekly-ish*. Hopefully every other week, and at least once a month…most of the time!
* My husband would like you all to know that he “told me so” back when I announced my intention to post weekly. 🙄
Happy birthday, Claire. Thanks for another delicious post.
I love this post. I love you, my friend! I'm always learning from you, you whippersnapper.