Learning, planning, doing

I've noticed that my work can basically be divided into three areas: learning, planning and doing.

Sometimes, I need to read books, watch videos, do some research, so that I know how to do something.

Other times, I need to plan what I'm going to do.  Before I start writing, I need to think about what I'm going to write.  Make an outline, plan it out, brainstorm, make a list, etc.

Then there's the actual work.  Where I'm writing the piece that's going to get sent out or published or posted. 

While all three components are essential, the actual writing of the piece is the hardest.  That's where all the stakes are.  That's the part that makes the impact.  It's where the risk for failure (or success) lies.

There's always a temptation to spend more time on the learning and planning.  They're safe.  And they're also essential.

The problem is that time is finite.  When I'm learning through reading a book or a report or watching a video, I'm not writing.  When I'm writing about what I'm planning to do and how I want to organize my day, I'm not writing the piece that's going to go out.

Yes, they're all important.  But the learning and planning don't amount to anything unless i actually do something as a result.

Misplaced attachment to metrics

I do this thing called 750 words.  You go on the website and you write.  And every day that you write 750 words, you get some points.  And an X shows up on your scorecard like a strike in bowling.  Every day you write anything at all, you get 1 point.  It shows up like a spare on your score card.  When you get strikes on several days in a row, you get badges.

Well, today, I logged in and I was disappointed to see that I only got a spare for yesterday's writing.  I expected to see a strike because I distinctly remember passing the 750 word mark in my writing yesterday.  Maybe I closed my computer before those last few words were saved or something.  I don't know.

Then I realized is that it doesn't even really matter.  I did the writing.  That's the important part.  I got to process some thoughts.  My mind feels a little less cluttered.  I got a little bit more clarity on a big project. 

Whether or not I get a strike or a spare or whatever the number of points or badges I get for writing is not the point. 

What's interesting is that because this metric is so much more visible and concrete than the clarity and progress I made through writing, my heart actually sank a little when I saw the spare instead of the strike, which I expected. 

It's very silly, actually.  Because the part that really matters is done.  The writing is there.  And I've already extracted the benefit of it. 

Yet, as evidenced by that heart sinking, I see that I've put far more importance to this metric than it deserves.