Early mornings give me time to breathe, start slow, share a little gratitude and take some time to think. Today was one of those days, and you know, it was a good day.
I don’t get up early near enough. But I’m going to start doing it more. I’m going to take the moments that bespeak my humanity and ground my soul. Time when my thoughts can settle, and stillness can take over.
I have time left, but time rushed is not time really lived. There is, and will always be, much to do; but doing life is nothing compared to being – and feeling – alive.
Might & Mischief is the result of 4 steps that, to be completely honest, I’ve enjoyed just about every minute of. It has challenged me, increased my skill, improved observation and has become a vehicle that keeps me growing in and enjoying what I do.
These steps aren’t perfect, but they’re also not theory. I’ve been designing and writing extensively for 3 years, and have fortunately had wits-enough to learn where I was failing, and how I thrive. I still follow – and am learning from – this course of action.
The goal of this article is to provide you with simple steps you can take to enjoy your creative work more.
This all got me thinking – could there be a benefit to bad design, both as a creative and a user? I’ve heard it said that you should give yourself permission to make bad art (either Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way or Steven Pressfield in The War of Art). What about engaging with bad design?
Hard times can facilitate hard lessons. Lessons that become more permanent – and painful – than everyday lessons. It doesn’t always happen, but there are times, if we pay attention, when it’s possible to find small windows or hidden paths that do more than provide a passing glance at truth. If we’re fortunate, they accompany scars and become part of a life legacy; other times they sear the mind or pierce the heart, teaching us what no teacher can.
People are brilliant at finding fault. But could you really have done it better? Be honest – give yourself a budget and a deadline, and a board of directors breathing down your neck – is your version still better?
You have a say in what does & doesn’t affect your life
For most content, it’s not a big deal. But occasionally I’ll land a juicy opportunity for something more than a read or listen. I’ll stumble on something that will hook my emotions, evoke a response, and take more than a little mind-space while I process; it will set up shop until I kick it out. But despite the visceral power of this kind of content, it can only impact me if I let it — if I continue to engage with it. After all, I don’t have to read, or watch, or listen to all of it once I’ve started.
That’s obvious, right? It is, but what’s not, perhaps, quite-so-obvious is the tendency to never stop and ask myself if I should keep on with it. It being good or bad isn’t the key ingredient here. The key ingredient is recognizing whether or not I want to waste my energy on it.
Yes, it was harder for me, and yes, they have it better than I had. And they should absolutely start where I did and wrestle through the same battles. Those battles, after all, taught me what I know today. How can they gain the same navigation, grit, and confidence if they don’t start there?
And what about the time it takes? When I have to explain why B is the approach you need, and how C & D look like they work, but actually won’t once all the pieces are together, it’s another 15 to 30 minutes lost. Multiply that by half a dozen a week and I’m losing hours.