It’s a new year and we’ve got stuff to do.
One of the things I learned about myself in 2022 was how vitally important it is to have a proper space for focus; a space that minimizes distractions and promotes thinking. Especially for introverted folks like me.
My word for 2023? Solitude.
What I’m Reading
This became more apparent as I read Susan Cain’s Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. It’s a brilliant book for those who may have introverted tendencies or are not low-reactive types. If socializing doesn’t feel effortless on average, I highly recommend picking up a copy to at least understand introversion, if not for better understanding yourself.
“Introverts prefer to work independently, and solitude can be a catalyst to innovation.” (Quiet, Susan Cain)
Before reading this book, I had trouble believing the myriad benefits one can enjoy being solidly in the introvert camp. This drove a shift in my behavior—I started craving solitude and seeking focus spaces as an act of self-care.
Proper “focus spaces” also help me listen more—both inwardly and outwardly. Having a space where I can focus for a short while grants me a sense of serenity, calm, and peace with the world. When I return from this focused session, I often have a lasting feeling of balance and tolerance.
I think these sessions lower my level of reactivity to the world. They restore an imbalance in awareness to external stimuli and internal contemplation. They’re a reset.
When I return from these focused sessions, I’m able to listen to others more deeply and process things better. I’m more attentive to external stimuli and I have more to give.
Listening is a way of offering others our scarcest, most precious gift: our attention.” (Think Again, Adam Grant)
Mental Isolation and Flow
I’ve had some trouble downshifting from what I call “high-frequency” activities to “low-frequency” ones.
Work is full of high-frequency activities, such as collaboration sessions with colleagues. Interaction with other people requires quickly receiving external information, processing or contemplating it, and then responding. We then repeat this process many times in a given interaction, which is why this is a high-frequency activity.
Low-frequency activities do not require as many loops in quick succession, rather there’s more time to deeply process the information. Low-frequency communication also requires receiving external information to be efficient—easy for especially observant people.
I prefer low-frequency activities to high-frequency ones.
When you’re in a flow state, it’s typically low-frequency. Information is is freely available and already loaded into the brain. Writing is a great example of this—contemplation is a very low-frequency activity with a nearly completely open channel outward-bound to the medium you are writing on. Pen to page, as they say.
I should also say that this is all not very scientific, it’s simply an observation on how I operate.
When I switch between tasks that are high-frequency to ones that are low-frequency, I need something to reinforce to my brain that I’m committed to this new mode. This is where I need to provide environmental context clues—change my setting, change my behaviors, etc.
Isolation helps with that. It tells my brain that there are fewer sources of input and thus lowering that high-frequency of information. Isolation doesn’t have to be in the pure sense of sitting alone in a white-walled room with no distractions, but it could merely consist of fewer things to react to subconsciously.
Shutting my eyes and using earplugs could help with that, but that’s not terribly helpful at work. What I do instead is change my surroundings, even if temporarily.
Making Space for Productivity
Over the past couple of years, I found myself in an acceptably fully-virtual position. I no longer needed to worry about in-office distractions—teammates knocking on cubicle walls, collaborators talking over monitors, people chit-chatting audibly in a nearby hallway for a walking meeting. I was fortunate to have the ability to work remotely, but I also found myself needing to adjust to it.
We transformed our second bedroom into a proper office, fitted with a daybed, a standing desk with a widescreen monitor, and not much else. I was excited for this change because it was surely tailored to a focused work environment. It was set up exactly how I needed for my intense focus, ideal workflow, and minimal disruption. It was excellent for a while.
And then after about a month, it was no longer the ideal place to get work done. Strangely, nothing had really changed about the room at all. The layout of my desk, the near-absence of noise, and the level of activity in the room was virtually the same.
I thought maybe I had adapted to my new space. The novelty hadn’t exactly worn off, but distractions had somehow started to creep in once again.
What dawned on me is that the level of upkeep I had for (and in) the space I was working in had not changed. At first, this new space was set up optimally for my workflow and it didn’t need any kind of maintenance. I had no immediate ukpeep duties for my office, and I was excited to simply enjoy my new work environment.
If you’ve got responsibilities in the space you’re in, it has become dual purpose. As long as we need to maintain the space we’re in—keeping it clean, organized, tidy, distraction and clutter-free—I think we might just lose our solitude.
sol·i·tude:
remoteness from habitations, as of a place; absence of human activity. — Dictionary.com¹
Once we become responsible for other things in a space, we have become habitants of it. Interaction has become necessary, not optional. We are then beholden to that space.
This is why I have a newfound preference for continually changing up my work environment for maintaining a high level of productivity and creativity.
Choosing Spaces for Maximum Productivity
Here’s the space I’m working from at the moment I’m writing this. It’s a common area of our apartment building called “the party room”, which is sometimes used for catering and community events. (Ironically, it’s empty most of the time and only occasionally does it live up to its namesake.)
There are a few things that help me focus in a space like this. For one, there’s a very low level of activity. People occasionally will pass through because it’s a common area near the entrance of the building. It also has great lighting, ample space for spreading out, and a choice of seating.
Sure, not everyone has a space like this readily available to them, but I’ve also enjoyed the low and slow atmosphere of a library at different times in my life. Public libraries are a great place to get work done. Some people enjoy a local café.
Eventually though, I will even get used to a space like this. Its once-novel features may start to wear on me, such as the club-like electro-house music (ostensibly appealing to tenants, but seeing as the space is empty, it may have started to drive them away too.)
I will have to maintain a keen awareness of my own productivity, and regularly look for new spaces to do my best and most creative thinking in solidarity. We also never know where inspiration may strike.
Productivity and Solitude Anywhere
Productivity has always been something that I can achieve in small spurts. I’m a fan of the Pomodoro Technique, where one sets a task and focuses on it within short intervals with breaks in between. (I’m not sure how much science supports this method, but it’s always been nice to focus for intense periods and then have a break.)
If you have the ability and flexibility to work from different places on occasion, it’s important to consider the type of work you’re doing. Where teamwork and collaboration may require a particularly dynamic environment, deep thinking and focus often do not. Know that even the most ideal environments can be distracting, for reasons we may not expect.
An exercise that helps you consider how a space might be affecting your productivity is to keep track of the unrelated tasks when you need to remain focused on a single task. Getting up to use the restroom or get a glass of water doesn’t count here—but maybe you’re drifting off, scrolling through ambient music options, tidying up, or something else.
A Pomodoro timer is a great way to call attention to the distractions, and can be as simple as setting a task timer for 15 minutes.
If you’re finding yourself getting distracted (even when alone), maybe you can move to a space where you have fewer obligations and required maintenance. A distraction-free space can mean a organized and distraction-free mind.
Personally, I think I’ll be seeking out spaces which I owe nothing to in 2023. I’ll be looking for new focus spaces which allow me to drop in for a bit, and simply pack up and leave once I’m ready. I don’t want obligations to the work spaces weighing down my productivity and simplicity of mind.
I think in 2023, finding my focus spaces will help me enjoy more solitude, and get more meaningful work done.
Conclusion
I’m still learning a lot about myself and the conditions that support my best work. Hopefully some of the ideas here have helped you learn a bit more about yourself or someone you know that enjoys that coveted deep focus santuary.
When it comes to spaces, I’ve always enjoyed working from somewhere new. But now, I think I’m beginning to understand why.
In 2023, I’ll be seeking more spaces and places that let me do my best thinking. I look forward to writing more pieces like this when I find them.
¹ It’s an interesting to me that the word “Solitude” occurs in writing less than half as often as it did 200 years ago, according to Google Ngram Viewer:
