I already planned to write this blog on deadlines, but last Sunday the New York Times beat me to it.  Of course, that is bound to happen once in a while because they have a lot of writers to keep busy, and I just have me.

The gist of the NY Times article is that we more reliably complete a task when we have a specific goal tied to an explicit deadline.  This is true even if the deadline is self-imposed.

The NY Times thought they were writing about politicians setting deadlines for legislation, but I believe they were really writing about me.

Whenever I see a friend I haven’t talked to for a few months, one of their first questions is often, “How is your writing going?”

My answer is always the same.  “My blog is going fine.”

Eight years ago I gave myself a personal deadline. Every Tuesday morning I would post a new blog.  To allow time for editing, finding a photo, and posting, I need to complete my draft by Sunday evening.  I admit, once or twice that has slipped to Monday morning.  Well — once it even slipped to Monday evening, (with very little time for editing).

Other than my blog, what else have I written during the past eight years?  There were three People Tools books – all finished under strict deadlines set by a publisher. Two children’s books, also finished with a publisher’s deadline in mind.  I also write a large number of emails each day, usually at the last possible moment.  I seem to operate the same way most of us do – no deadline, no writing.

Strangely, when I was married to Susan, she told me that she was going to have to stay up late one night to finish a paper for school.

“Oh,” I said.  “It’s due tomorrow morning?”

“No.  It’s due in three weeks, but I like to finish assignments as early as I can.”  That was weird, even admirable, but clearly, as writers, we were incompatible.

I’ve also set a maximum of 600 words for each blog.  I like to keep it short – a reading time of less than three minutes.  The blog you are currently reading is now over 300 words, which is long enough.

And I have another deadline tonight, notably to finish reading the Sunday NY Times before they send the Monday edition.  If I didn’t respect that deadline, I’d still be reading news ten years old.

If you have any comments for me, please take note: the deadline is Tuesday at 3:00 am Pacific Daylight Savings Time.

Alan

Last week, I had to drive “over the hill” for an emergency dental appointment.  It’s a trip I have taken often, but I hadn’t driven Beverly Glen for more than fifteen months. So while the route from my home to Beverly Hills felt familiar, it also seemed vaguely different.

For some reason it reminded me of the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, Couldn’t put Humpty together again.”  (And not because he was a rotten egg.)

We are now engaging in many of the activities that we missed during the pandemic. People are traveling and socializing. Shops and restaurants are reopening after what seemed like a brief break that has lasted forever.  But even as businesses open, not everything will be as it was before. And maybe that’s a good thing.

Two weeks ago, for the first time in more than a year, I enjoyed lunch inside a restaurant.  I realized that one reason I have successfully shed twenty pounds during the past fifteen months is that restaurants serve too much food.  I eat more sensible portions at home.  In the future I plan to adopt my dad’s system of eating out.  When his meal was served he would always ask for a box, and put half of his food into it before starting to eat.  My dad was a smart man.

Now I’m left wondering how much of my life will go back to being the same as it used to be. How much can “all the king’s horses and all the king’s men” really put back together again.

Since we are all creatures of habit, I don’t expect to wake up tomorrow morning eager to play the piano in my living room – the piano I have walked past without touching it for many years.  Nor do I expect to develop a yearning for Brussel sprouts.  Yuck!

But now I am less likely to suffer fools gladly.  Over the past year and a half, I have enjoyed reading and watching sports on TV.  I have enjoyed my own company.  I realize more than ever that I do not like to be “trapped” in long, conversations on topics I don’t really care about.

Whatever the future holds, I’m not going to fall off the wall like Humpty Dumpty. But I plan to appreciate all of the improvements I have discovered, and hope to permanently adopt many into my “normal” life.

And if I do fall off the wall, as we all did in March of 2020, I’m going to enjoy that journey as well.

Alan

When I was learning to play chess I read a book that suggested:  “Play against chess players who are better than you so you will improve.  And play against chess players who are not as good as you so you will be encouraged.”

This advice exemplifies the contrast between aspiration and satisfaction.  We like to improve, but we also like to feel successful.

How can we accomplish both?

As a pragmatist, I always look for solutions that work. Every day I want to get better at whatever I’m doing – my writing, for example.  But each day I also want to be happy with what I’ve done – my writing, for example.  Why not do both.

First, I have to enjoy the process of writing (and I do).  As Justice Louis Brandeis said, there is no great writing, only great rewriting.  I enjoy working to improve what I’ve written, putting it aside for a few days, then working to improve it further.  It’s important for me to remember that whenever I read anything in print I’m probably looking at the twentieth draft, certainly not at the first.

Secondly, I enjoy the results of writing  – a completed book or blog. In addition, I find I have come to understand myself better as my own thoughts are clarified in the writing and rewriting process.

A reporter once telephoned a writer to ask, “How do you feel about winning the Nobel Prize for literature?”

“I don’t know,” the writer said.  “I haven’t written about it yet.”

Your own perceptions are the secret ingredient that enable you to enjoy how you spend your days. If you see the world through the darkened lens of pessimism and negativity you will never be content. But if you choose to see each day as an opportunity for both discovery and improvement, you will never be disappointed.

One of my favorite movies is The Last Samurai.  As the hero, Katsumoto, is dying, his last words to his comrade-in-arms are about a cherry blossom.

“It is perfect.”

Alan