Sometimes we just can't think of anything great.
Sometimes nothing at all.
Sometimes you been running and going and throwing so many ideas against the wall your brain packs its sit up and goes to stay at its mom's house for a few days.
I came across this great article that reminded me to nurture of my brain in order to keep it as creative as possible.
8 Ways to Keep Your Brain Innovative
from INC
When I return from the Serengeti, my brain feels new.
It's as if the hot African sun sears away mental fog. You can replicate
this--closer to home.
For many years, I have had the privilege of leading groups of family
members, friends, colleagues, and clients to Africa. We do volunteer
work for the Kenyan Children Foundation;
we dig, scrub, build, teach, and--at all times--give as much love as
possible to the AIDS children the Foundation serves. Every evening, no
matter how late it is, our group convenes to discuss our day. This is
not a vacation. This is work--expensive work! Yet year after year,
people jump at the opportunity to join me.
People want to join me because of the wonderful feelings that come
from helping children who society has otherwise abandoned. There is also
the excitement of visiting such a dramatically different part of the
world.
Also, after our work is done and we return home, we all notice an
interesting phenomenon. Our brains feel new. Our eyes see differently.
It's as if the hot African sun seared away all our mental fog.
"It seems crazy to think that I had to go that far to gain
perspective," says Lauren, a human resources executive at a Fortune 1000
company. "But life there is simpler. We had no TV or radio or
newspapers for three weeks. Unplugging gave me such an appreciation for
life. Kenya reminded me of what's important: the beauty of the earth,
good food, and fellowship. By getting off the daily treadmill, I was
able to get back on it with far more patience. The Serengeti gave me the
gift of seeing the bigger picture. Now, in my work, I don't get so
wrapped up in the day-to-day challenges that I lose sight of the greater
goal. My brain built new pathways and connections, and reached new
'a-ha!' moments that have made my decision-making more clear, my life
less stressful, and my heart more grateful."
When I am in Africa, I not only begin to see the "bigger picture," as
Lauren says, but I also gradually get into the rhythm of "Africa time."
An 8:00 appointment may or may not happen at 8:00. When it happens, it
happens. Africa time causes the structural part of my brain to
eventually give up and go on a holiday. I also find that the analytical
part of my brain is forced to yield to more innovative and more social
thinking--so I use the opposite parts of the brain on which Western
society is largely based. All these shifts make my brain more open to
inspiration and new ideas.
On the treadmill of our daily lives, we are far too busy for Africa time. Blogger J.D. Gershein notes
that the expression, "I've been crazy busy," has become the new
professional apology, and asks, "How on earth did we arrive at the
crossroads of manageable busy and clinical insanity?"
The problem with being "crazy busy" is that it does not allow
freewheeling thought. Think of the bright ideas you've had when you were
washing your face, or even sound asleep. A recent article in The New York Times
titled "The 'Busy' Trap" points out: "History is full of stories of
inspirations that come in idle moments and dreams. It almost makes you
wonder whether loafers, goldbricks, and no-accounts aren't responsible
for more of the world's great ideas, inventions, and masterpieces than
the hardworking."
Working incessantly is counterproductive. Our brains can only handle so much. A wonderful article
by Sara Robinson called "Bring Back the 40-Hour Work Week" notes that
every work day "odds are good that you probably turn out five or six
good, productive hours of hard mental work, and then spend the other two
or three hours on the job in meetings, answering e-mail, making phone
calls and so on. You can stay longer if your boss asks; but after six
hours, all he's really got left is a butt in a chair."
Although corporate America has not gotten the message, there is
mountains of evidence that working longer hours does not produce better
work. In fact, the overworked brain begins to make mistakes, and it is
possible for teams to reach a point where they are working longer hours
just to correct the errors they made from working longer hours! Dramatic
examples of the consequences of brain fatigue include the Exxon Valdez
disaster, the space shuttle Challenger explosion, and numerous
near-misses when air traffic controllers have been overtired.
So what can you do to work smarter, prevent burn-out, and make sure your brain is always open to inspiration?
1. Work fewer hours.
Working the longest hours of anyone is just foolish.
2. Clarify your goals and core values.
What are you ultimately trying to accomplish? Are you spending too much time spinning your wheels on tasks that are irrelevant?
3. Track your time.
Being ruthlessly efficient allows you to block out periods of non-work time.
4. Don't over-promise.
This is especially challenging for entrepreneurs, since in many cases
you won't get the job unless you tell the client you'll get it done in
record time--for the least amount of money.
5. Say, 'No.'
Learn to walk away from jobs that will be a nightmare.
6. Hire help.
If you refuse to delegate, you only end up hurting yourself by working longer hours. You will have to learn how to not be a perfectionist and how to not be a control freak.
7. Get a life.
Make sure you have a good life outside of work, and that you're not trying to escape something by working too hard.
8. Unplug.
Block out periods of time when you will let your phone take messages and let your email collect unread. It's not going anywhere.
Fortunately, you don't need to travel halfway around the world to
learn how to make your life less busy and your brain more innovative. By
working smarter, you'll have an opportunity for strategic thinking and
planning during prime time every day, instead of squeezing your most
important visionary work into late nights and weekends.
