The Productive Power of Distractions: Strategies for Busy Leaders
Many of us are infillers. As soon as there is an empty space, we load it with something, anything. And we do so while feeling caught in a whirlpool of obligations and outside demands, fighting off the grasping claws of FOMO (the infamous fear of missing out). Is there some way to find ease with emptiness, to hone the art of doing nothing? Or at least milk our distraction attraction for all it’s worth?
With summer at its peak, I’m contemplating emptiness as it relates to my time, wanting to write in praise of it, only to realize that there is no love lost between me and hollow time—those vacant moments of nothingness.
I’m clearly an infiller. I get restless. I must complete something, do something for someone, arrange something. Anything. As a last resort, I’ll meditate. No empty time on my schedule.
Always one for trying something new, the other day I was experimenting with just experiencing empty time. I watched some butterflies, squirmed a bit in place, and my eye caught a glimmer of sun reflecting off my phone. Uh oh. You know the rest: Instagram. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. And before I knew it, my empty time had fallen victim to “just one more” flick of the finger, not wanting to miss some quote or picture.
It could have been worse, I could have tumbled into a bout of “doomscrolling,” entirely focused on negative news.
FOMO
You’d think Saint Augustine had glimpsed the future of social media when he said, “Complete abstinence is easier than perfect moderation.” I’m always surprised just how endless scrolling topples all good intentions of “a quick look,” how the medium exacerbates the angst of what could I be missing. It would definitely be so much easier to never look at Instagram again.
Until, of course, I saw someone else humming and hawing over a device.
This is a clear case of FOMO, or fear of missing out. Added to the Oxford Dictionary in 2013, it means the “anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on social media.” The state easily slips beyond our control.
I value being in a place of choice and wonder how can I “give into” these tools and still maintain my ability to move on? How can I have it all?
Distraction Attraction
What if this draw we feel stems from that part of us that puts us on the top of the food chain? After all, getting distracted (by a rustle in the tall grass) used to keep us alive, as did the social bonding of keeping up with the Jones. How can we own it in a way that serves us?
First, do a distraction audit.
Step 1: Observe yourself for a few days.
When do you turn to distractions? Are there specific times?
What triggers the shift? Fatigue? Avoidance? Overwhelm?
What feeling does the distraction procure?
Step 2: List your distractions. Split them into 2 categories: Bound or Unbound, depending on what boundaries you manage to put in place.
The Unbound: Choose to eliminate them or figure out how to reign them in—there are apps that limit your app-use time.
The Bound: Split into Chargers and Drainers.
The Drainers: Eliminate.
The Chargers: Schedule them in. There’s a frivolous joy in social media I like. I make it a reward for exercise or getting the accounting/dishes/windows/whatever done.
The key here is energy management. You want to expend less energy fighting the distraction, rerouting that vitality to what you need or want to do. Including empty time.
Freeing up Mind Space
Enjoying empty time takes practice. It helps to become intentional about it.
You do this by really using your planner.
Plan your empty time. Get it on the calendar, or it won’t happen.
Schedule time for distractions so they don’t hound you while you are doing something else. And when time is up, it’s up.
If a worried mind populates your empty time, schedule another time for worrying, so it doesn’t interfere.
“Poor Zora – she lived through footnotes.”