UCD in Your World: Applying My UX Designer Experience to My Own Life — Part II
“People are frustrated with everyday things,” Donald Norman writes this sentence in his book “The Design of Everyday Things,” hitting us in the gut and making us ponder: Does design analogize life, or does life analogize design?
So, here’s the deal: when I decided to jot down this text, my grand plan was to give you a glimpse into my super-secret method for wrangling my thoughts and desires. You know, the magical recipe I’ve been using to keep me at the center of all my life decisions. Picture it as my quest for the Holy Grail of “the best user experience” in my own life — no glitches, no frustrating crashes, and where I, as the user (aka, me), can smoothly carry out all the functions and actions I fancy.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting — this journey is like a shape-shifting blob. I’m all about personal growth, or at least I try to be, so it’s kind of like trying to predict the weather in a decade — you just can’t. So, everything I’m about to spill is from the perspective of today’s Luiza, in the exact pickle you read about in Part I (or were supposed to read, but no pressure). 🫣
But if everything flips upside down, no worries! Life loves to throw curveballs, and I’ll be right there to catch them. It’s a new life project with newfangled technologies (aka, experiences), a refurbished user interface (that’s the updated me), and fresh new settings (oh, the contexts, they’ll be a-changin’). We’ll brainstorm like the most creative designer if necessary, and consider it a problem-solving adventure. Wow, my psychologist would be high-fiving me right now. 🤩
Anyway, let’s look at what’s happening today:
What tickles my fancy most in life is the quirky combination of the creative process and psychology, as I’ve mentioned before. These are like my trusty sidekicks, always there to help me maintain my cool and make life decisions with some semblance of sanity. But then, life decided to throw me a “briefing” in the form of unemployment and let me tell you, it was a pretty terrible briefing — like the kind you’d get from a sleep-deprived intern. Suddenly, I found myself making decisions on a whim, driven by desperation and impulsive thinking. It’s a bit like trying to drive with your GPS in “chaos mode.”
And just when I thought I was in the deepest pit of confusion, a beacon of hope appeared in the form of Donald Norman’s book, “The Design of Everyday Things.” Whether you’re a UX enthusiast or not, this book is like a good laugh on a bad day; you just can’t pass it up. Norman even dedicates an entire chapter to “The Psychology of Everyday Actions,” where he unravels the mysteries of human cognition and emotions. He even gives a nod to his other masterpiece, “Emotional Design,” which is another gem worth exploring.
Now, imagine our brains are like a swanky apartment building with three floors: the Visceral, Behavioral, and Reflective levels. The first two are like the secret underground speakeasies where all the basic emotions hang out. Then, there’s the Reflective level — it’s the top floor, the brain’s penthouse. This is where conscious thoughts gather for important decisions and what the experts call “high-level emotions.” It’s the brain’s version of a posh party basically. Now, let me relate all this brainy stuff to my “new project.” I promise I won’t get too deep.
The Visceral Level: This is like the brain’s instant coffee maker — quick and unconscious, with no time for sugar or cream. When I got the news about the end of my company connection, my brain went full “panic mode.” It was like a mental circus: “I’m moving back to Brazil, selling my apartment furniture, starting over, and waving goodbye to my dreams.” Pure catastrophizing drama — my brain’s way of doing a pre-show warm-up, and all of this happened just moments before the “you’re out of here” bombshell dropped. So, after my brain made a pit stop on the first floor, it hopped on the elevator, pushed the button for the second floor, and away we went.
The Behavioral Level: Think of this level as the brain’s backstage, where all the “been there, done that” moves are stashed. It’s like your brain’s secret stash of dance moves you only bring out at weddings. The catch? This part of the brain operates in stealth mode like a ninja making you do things without you even realizing it.
Now, for us designers, this is where things get interesting. It’s like trying to assemble an IKEA shelf without the instructions — you know what you should do, but you’re not entirely sure how to pull it off. So, there I was, slipping into “operation mode” like a secret agent, thinking, “Cancel the extravagances, pimp up the portfolio, give the CV a facelift, and hunt for a job, any job!” But soon, I realized that sticking around on this floor was like sweeping problems under the rug. And hey, good product designers don’t do that. They ask, “What do my users really need?” So, time to put on my designer cape and get to the bottom of it, I mean to the brain’s penthouse.
The Reflective Level: This is like the brain’s grand library of profound thoughts and conscious cogitations. It’s where the fancy-pants brainiacs in your head hold their intellectual soirées. Think of it as the brain’s slow-motion replay center, where they dissect every moment, assessing the blame, giving out trophies, and predicting the future with all the suspense of a Netflix thriller.
So, as I wrestled with my “mystical feelings of predicting the future,” I finally hit the brakes and decided to take a long, hard look in the mirror. What do I want in life? What are my hidden talents, my weird quirks, and how can I turn them into something as handy as a Swiss Army knife on this crazy journey? It’s time to sculpt my life like a modern-day Michelangelo but with a little less marble and a bit more creativity (sorry Michelangelo).
Relax David, let’s cut to the chase. Most of us have probably been on that anxiety rollercoaster of wild anticipation, swinging between ecstatic highs and soul-crushing lows, all courtesy of our brain’s unfiltered, imagination-driven “what if” system. It’s like our personal emotional weather forecast, complete with thunderstorms of anger and sunshine-filled moments of bliss. But here’s the kicker: getting bogged down in this emotional whirlwind won’t transform us into Jedi-level decision-makers when life throws us those crazy curveballs I’m currently dodging.
Now, I could dissect the next chapters of Donald Norman’s book, which, by the way, felt eerily like a guide to my personal grieving process. You’ve got your all-time hits like “Blaming the Wrong Thing” and “Falsely Blaming Yourself” (seriously, check out pages 59 and 65).
Instead, I decided to hit the fast-forward button and jump straight into “The Seven Stages of Action” — a tool that’s like a pirate’s treasure map to analyze perception, integration, and articulation in human information processing, a useful framework for understanding human action and for guiding design. In my case, though, it’s all about charting my own epic journey. The Seven Stages of Action are:
01. Goal (form the goal)
02. Plan (the action)
03. Specify (an action)
04. Perform (the action sequence)
05. Perceive (the state of the world)
06. Interpret (the perception)
07. Compare (the outcome with the goals)
When you stumble upon those answers, it’s akin to unlocking the guiding compass for your project. This compass helps you navigate and respond to all the essential questions required to enhance the user’s life in every imaginable way.
Oh, what if you thought I’d wrapped up all seven points like a champ? Well, my dear reader, you’re in for a surprise! This adventure is still a work in progress. But when I do stumble upon those elusive answers, I’ll have the master plan to craft a product that’s nothing short of extraordinary. And here’s the kicker — the VIP user in this wild personal project of life is none other than me.
Now, whether my journey strikes a chord with you or not, I hope you take away this little nugget of wisdom: you’re the User-Centered Designer of your own life. It’s time to be kind to ourselves, show some empathy for our needs, and treat our lives as if we’re conducting user research. We define the issues, brainstorm solutions, and give it another shot.
Ah, you’ve caught on! It does sound a lot like Design Thinking! Well, that’s a whole treasure trove of material for a future post. But for now, I’ll keep my sights locked on my number one user: myself.
See you around! 👋🏻
With love, Lu.
