Tag Archives: reflection

Rapid Logging Reflection

I’ve used the Bullet Journal system of rapid-logging for over six years (starting in December 2016). I mentioned in a recent post how I realized I’d gotten away from doing the reflection part of the system.

While I have sometimes taken the necessary time to incorporate artwork and other frills into my Bullet Journal practice, one of the big draws of the system for many is that it is rapid.

If you don’t want to, you don’t have to spend a bunch of hours and effort making a Pinterest-perfect page or Insta-worthy image on every page. The original point is to have a place to quickly ‘download’ stuff from your brain onto the page so you can take the time to review and respond later.

So I decided to add some symbols to my key – something that takes less than a second to add to the page, but gives me an easy way to get the most out of my journal when I come back to it at the end of the day.

Simple, quick, effective… as I believe the heart of the system intends such devices to be.

 

 

 

When I watched Ryder Carroll’s end of year livestream, the idea of using reflection to capture what you want more of and what you want less of really resonated with me. It was like I’d been putting a puzzle together for six years and I’d forgotten to look at the picture on the box to see what the end result should be.

I wanted a fast way to note these two aspects (“more of this,” “less of this”) and a way to see the results at a glance.

More of This

For the experiences I want to repeat or increase, I thought a plus sign in a circle like the positive end of a battery would be a great way to quickly capture those things which gave me a recharge or renewed sense of purpose. More of these please.

For example, yesterday I helped some coworkers find necessary resources or answers to their questions about how to do their job. Not surprisingly, it felt great to be useful and to help someone out. That’s a plus.

Recently I took a few minutes to sit at the piano and “vent” a little emotion through the keys. Better that than to lose my temper about something stupid, or to hold it all in and wallow in negative emotions. That was a good release, time well spent; that’s a plus.

When I take time to add a little color, I put a light green shade on these to make them stand out even more.

Less of This

For those moments when I know I’ve screwed up or repeated a personal failure or weakness I’m trying to eliminate, a simple “No” circle with a bar through it is a great rapid reminder for later. Like a street sign that says “No entry,” I want these indicators to help me redirect my emotions and actions so that I stop trying to go down the roads of life the wrong way.

For example, I had an outburst of anger the other morning as I was trying to get out the door. My bag caught on my chair and knocked down my “spill-proof” coffee cup. The cup’s lid popped off a bit, spraying hot coffee on me and all over the floor. (It literally sprayed from the floor to my face almost six feet in the air.) I had to drop everything and clean up when I was already running behind.

I didn’t handle it well, but I knew that my reaction was ridiculous, excessive, and unhelpful. When I get stressed out and angry about things, the rest of the family gets stressed out by my temper. That is NOT who I want to be.

A quick note with a “No” symbol left me room to come back in reflection to consider all the ways this was an avoidable failure.

Not only should I control my emotions and actions better, but I could have been a little more slow and deliberate with my stuff so the coffee cup didn’t get knocked down in the first place.

Why didn’t I do that? Because I was running late so I was rushing. Why was I running late? Because I took more time that morning for mindless YouTube-ing and doomscrolling on social media. Why did I do that? Because I didn’t start off the morning with my focused rituals that set the course for my day and get my head in the mindset I want to live out.

So in reflection, I was able to slap a “no” on all those sub-components that contributed to the coffee debacle. Less of all of that, please.

I sometimes color these red to make them pop off the page a little more when I look back over what I’ve been doing.

Can you spot me a 20-minutes?

I’ve been listening to Ryan Holiday and some other proponents of Stoicism lately. There’s a lot that I really like – the internal locus of control, for example. I’ve been challenged and inspired by a number of the values shared… especially by the concept of Memento Mori, a Latin phrase for “Remember your death.”

This image – stark white on deep black – makes me think of the value of our few precious moments.

The reminder is meant to call attention to the limited time we have before we die, and the unavoidable inevitability of that death. This is not meant to make everything seem meaningless or leave you wallowing in nihilism; it’s meant to help reveal just how precious each moment we have actually is.

The Stoic call in remembering your death is to stop wasting time on stuff that doesn’t matter, and to refocus your attention on what you mean to accomplish with the short, brief life we’re given. It should strip away useless, irrelevant activities.

Holiday mentioned once how often we might be guarded with our money, like “Sorry, no, I’m not giving you the ten bucks in my pocket just because you asked.” But then someone asks for or demands ten minutes of our time, for something that holds no value or interest for us, and it’s like, “Oh, well, it’s just ten minutes. No big deal.”

You can make more money, but you can’t make more time. The clock is winding down on your life and you can’t turn the hand back no matter how hard you try. Memento Mori.

I thought it might be really challenging to track my time similar to how I might note how much money I spend. To have a symbol that helps me mentally turn time into a sort of currency, treating minutes like dollars.

I wanted something like the $ symbol for dollars, or ¥ for yen, etc. I thought about a T with an extra crossbar, or something.

I went with M for minutes, and one atop the other as a reminder of Memento Mori.

In my outburst example above, I ended up making a note that I’d spent 60 minutes on useless YouTube or social-media browsing, which was a catalyst that contributed to everything else that happened that morning.

Rapid-Logging Reflection

Reflection is a process that takes SOME time, by design. That’s kind of the point.

However, these symbols are going to help me 1) do it, and 2) get more out of the time I spend doing so. This, without adding some crazy level of complexity to the symbols or techniques I use for my version of Bullet Journaling.

Do you think these would work for you? Or do you have another way you use to identify the stuff in your life that you want to increase or decrease? I’d love to hear your thoughts – let me know in a comment.

Side Note: Memento Mori? But aren’t you a Christian?

Yes, seeing as I’m a Christian who believes in Jesus as the resurrection and the life, and the giver of eternal life, it might seem inconsistent or contradictory to find meaning in “Memento Mori.”

After all, the Apostle Paul wrote about how dying didn’t bother him – in fact, it was gain, an improved state! Dying just meant he would be with Christ. (See Philippians 1:20-26)

I don’t think a number of the modern-day adherents of Stoicism would share Paul’s hope of eternity. I’ve also had atheist and materialist friends express the idea to me that recognizing we only get this one life instills a precious value into every moment.

That said, even as a Christian, I also recognize that I only get this one lifetime to do any good or make any difference in the world. I have a hope of eternity, but after I pass away, there’s no coming back to tie up loose ends, to finish the tasks or personal goals I left undone, to resolve the hurts in relationships, to redeem any of the time I spent pursuing lesser things.

Paul in the above passage recognizes that though he has no fear of death because being with Christ will be better for him, he also could still do a lot of good for the church in Philippi if he lives to be released from prison. He hopes to make the most of the time in order to make the biggest impact and best benefit for the other believers.

One of my add-on memory verses is Ephesians 5:15-17. “Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil. So then, do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.”

Memento Mori. You may have eternity to look forward to, but you only have this life in which to impact eternity for those around you.

Compliments and Confidence

I had the privilege of singing the Japanese and American National Anthems for my unit’s Change of Command ceremony this week. It went well. I didn’t make any significant mistakes (that I’m aware of at least). I received several compliments. Some people seemed genuinely surprised.

It got me thinking about the distance between compliments for a job well done, and confidence that we can do a job well.

I spend a lot of time in front of other people–public speaking in the form of leading mission briefs and planning discussions, public singing and musical performance in church bands or for secular functions, and of course… writing.

At a recent writing group, we talked about how hard it can be to accept the compliments or to truly believe “My work is of sufficient quality.” People give compliments to be polite, right? It’s easy to shrug those off or downplay them… after all, that’s the humble thing to do, and no one likes an arrogant jerk, right?

“Oh, it’s no big thing, you know, I’ve been doing this for years… just another day to me. Glad you liked it.”

The reason these thoughts came to mind was because then someone didn’t say something to me about the performance. Immediately doubts and questions arose. Did they not like it? Did they think I sucked? Was I off key? Were they not impressed? Do they care at all? Do they know how good I am? Am I not that good? Why didn’t they say something when all those other people did? What did I do wrong that they didn’t like?

The truth is, none of those things are true.  I didn’t do anything wrong and I did just fine if not awesome (if the compliments are to be believed). Yet that brief moment of silence creates so many questions where none are necessary.

Early on, in singing or speaking or writing, I needed those compliments – I need some praise and assurance. “You are good at this.”  That can become a crutch, a dependency that nags at the back of my mind when I check site views or book reviews. When I participate in a critique group and put my work out there to other writers, I might come at that experience looking for validation instead of constructive feedback.

“Oh, you’re so good at this!”

*fake blush* Thank you, I know…

On the other hand, I don’t want to become arrogant or overconfident about how good I think I am. That’s the danger of believing the compliments a little too easily: acting as though I’ve mastered a thing when I’m really only an amateur.

So I presume and hope that there is a comfortable middle ground—a  place where I can be confident in my abilities while remaining grateful for the praise I earn. Something like the prophets in the Bible following the phrase “Don’t look at their faces.” Don’t try to figure out how everyone feels about what you’re doing–figure out how to do it, and just go for your best.

That’s a place where I’m not dependent on what others think to find my own validation. A place where I know I do pretty fine at X, Y, and Z… but I still want to get better at them.

Today, I’ll be signing books at the Base Exchange and shaking customers’ hands. I have no illusions about how minor a thing it is to get a story published in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book. It’s not the first step to becoming a Stephen King or George Martin.

But a company paid money for my words and put them in print. Salespeople suggested “What if you came and signed books?” Maybe some people will buy it, even if just as a novelty.

So it’s something. And today, that’s enough.