I am currently experimenting with a new way of working – not a process, not really a method or framework, and not really a structure, but a way of being.
Let’s call it an embodied way of working!
See, I find it super strange that we’ve normalized a way of working in which our bodies are mostly idle or in a very unhealthy position (e.g. sitting and looking at screens). Most office work today has no role for the body. It’s even more strange when you consider that we talk about creativity and emotional or critical thinking being one of the most important skills in today’s world (of work). Can you really improve creative, emotional, and critical thinking while sitting and looking at a screen?
Why do we normalize this way of working? It’s because of our separation (or dualism) worldview! Just as we wrongly see nature and humans as separate, we also see body and mind as separate.
“You need to think creatively? Then think!”
The term brainstorm is a cute example of this strange phenomenon. We believe that when we need new, creative, or innovative ideas, it’s best to think (brain); together (who is the loudest?); very quickly (storm) – and, again, mostly while sitting. Hmm… 🤨
There is, of course, no real separation between our body and our mind! We’ve known this for a long time, but recent scientific discoveries emphasize this even more, as well as growing consensus over the importance of physical movement and immersion in nature for mental health.
“The body and, crucially, movement give the brain access to our physical environments so that we can navigate the outside world. In this way, the brain and the body are partnered – one is essential to the other, and each informs the other.
This framing is central to what’s known as ‘embodied cognition’, a concept with intellectual roots dating back to the early 20th century. This radical and relatively recent approach to cognition emphasises the importance of the body and rejects the once-common view of the brain as the body’s sole director.”
Alright! So here are a few things that I am currently experimenting with when it comes to creating an embodied way of working:
From A Process To A Way Of Being
This is the main shift that I am currently undertaking. Instead of focusing on setting up certain processes for my work, I am shifting to a focus on how I attend work. This means that I spend quite some time working on my state of being (mind & body).
For example, instead of exploring an ideal research process or structure, I am exploring an ideal research state. I basically ask myself: How do I need to “feel” in order to do great research? Or when it comes to writing, what state of being do I need to be in in order for it to “flow”?
In its essence, this shift is based on a narrative shift from a separation (or dualism) view to seeing body and mind (and even the external, i.e. the environment) as interconnected. This requires embodiment and inner rewilding, which I’ve written about before.
From An Artificial To A Natural Pace
An embodied way of working clashes heavily with what’s currently considered a normal way of working, which suggests that work can be compartmentalized into certain time and location slots: You start work at 9 am and end it at 5 pm, from Monday to Friday; You start work at your desk (at home or in the office) and once you leave that location, work is over. What’s happening around you, in nature, and within your body-mind isn’t really relevant.
On Wednesday, I shared a piece from Cal Newport (author of Slow Productivity) in which he explains how humans have, for most of history, worked at a natural pace. However, due to the emergence of agriculture and especially industrial work in the 19th century, we have increasingly shifted to a non-natural pace, i.e. a non-embodied pace, or a pace not dictated by our body and mind, nor the environment. And when “knowledge work” came along, we simply applied this artificial pace to that new type of work as well.
Working at a natural pace (or an embodied pace) essentially means that there is lots of variation: in certain weeks or hours of the day, I work more (or more intense), and other times, I work less (or less intense) or not at all. And very importantly, this isn’t dictated by time (i.e. human made-up time) but rather by my embodied way of being: how I feel and what the weather or my surroundings are like.
Do I only work when I feel like it and everything is perfectly in place? No! But I do adapt what I work on and how I work on it. (And I, by the way, work more than the average “normal” knowledge worker.)
What’s important to consider here is that our perception of time, of our artificial time, has become accelerated due to a focus on productivity (‘time is money’, ‘don’t waste time’) and shorter forms of media and communication. In today’s age, more than ever, time has become a resource that’s increasingly scarce. Patience is almost non-existent anymore, and ‘doing nothing’ is seen as a complete waste of time.
We, therefore, in our perception, prioritize smaller timescales, such as weeks, days, hours, and minutes (depending on the topic at focus). Conversely, it’s hard for us to perceive longer timescales. There is a sort of lack of long-term perspectives in today’s cultures, from business to politics to career- and life-planning, and creative work.
Cal Newport, for example, points out that when one looks at the lives of extraordinary scientists and artists with today’s fixation on short and fast timescales, the famed scientists seem “spectacularly unproductive”. It’s only when one zooms out to the timescale of years or even more that these people suddenly become highly productive.
“[For example:] Galileo was also occupied in part by his success in ‘leading a full and happy life,’ in which ‘he studied literature and poetry, attended the theatre regularly, and continued to play the lute to a high standard.’ He was not, in other words, locked up, grinding away in relentless pursuit of results. Yet results are what he did ultimately produce. […]
Galileo famously ground the lens for his first telescope in only twenty-four hours, but this was after an entire summer of him trying to track down an elusive visitor to Italy who was rumored to know something about this then new technology.”
Sabbaticals – basically longer periods of embodiment – were, for example, also part of Isaac Newton’s, Albert Einstein’s, Charles Darwin’s, Marie Curie’s, JK Rowling’s, and Leo Tolstoy’s lives and successes.
From Intellect To Intuition
I’ve previously shared neuroscientist Ian McGilchrist's eye-opening work, which argues that our modern way of attending to the world is defined by an analytical, mechanistic, and manipulation-focused approach and, therefore, leads to the mess we are in. He argues that we change the world by changing our way of attending to it:
“‘Explicit reasoning needs to be counterbalanced by intuition (the synthesis of experience with unconscious reasoning) and imagination. [R]eality is neither undiscoverable, nor discoverable by the intellect alone, but by the whole embodied being, senses, feeling, intellect and imagination.’
Therefore, in order to find our home in the world, we need to approach the world as something to be embraced rather than manipulated. […] Our fundamental calling is to experience, to enjoy, rather than to analyse, to rejoice in rather than to exhaust.”
I started applying this to my own way of being (mind & body) by consciously containing my intellect or my rational reasoning while focusing more on my feelings and senses (my intuition) and this idea of just being, just experiencing.
This sounds funny, but I basically try to use my intellect less. 😅 As someone who thinks (rationally) a lot, I see this as similar to training a certain muscle or movement that I haven’t paid attention to in a long time. The more I train it, the better, more prominent, and easier it gets, and the more it becomes something I don’t have to think about, or, rather, do consciously.
Here is a concrete example: Before writing this piece, I started writing two other pieces, which, however, didn’t really “feel” good to me. I am trying to write and curate stuff that truly resonates with me and my readers (that’s you 😉).
I like the word and concept resonance to describe this, but I find it super tricky to explain it in words or intellectually. What I basically try to do is focus on my intuition, or on a more embodied feedback that I get while writing or thinking about certain topics (e.g. goosepumps). If there isn’t an embodied reaction to a piece I write or an idea I come across, then I usually throw it out the window (or on LinkedIn 🤣 – this is only half true…).
From Brainstorming To Contemplation
I need a lot of ideas and creative thoughts in order to provide you with my reframings and perspective shifts. My new way of coming up with ideas might not be the ideal way for you, but maybe it can still serve as an inspiration for you to create your own way.
Relating to the natural pace of work, I learned for myself that I have weeks and days in which I am super creative and struggle to “process” all the ideas that run through my head which are then followed by weeks in which I am not creative at all. While certain activities or processes can influence this slightly, for me, this is usually a two-week cycle. With that knowledge, I can structure my way of working accordingly. So this is what I do:
Whenever I have some interesting thoughts (even on those non-creative weeks and days), I write them down in my notes. Once I enter into one of those creative weeks (or days), I then go through my notes, cluster things, and prioritize (e.g. a note from a non-creative day might turn out as not useful), and in this process, I already add some new ideas here and there. But most importantly, I simply “experience” my notes.
I then do completely different things, like running, getting groceries, reading a book or the newspaper, cooking, meeting friends, listening to music, or just going for a walk. By doing this, I basically seek a situation in which my brain goes into connection-making mode. For myself, I’ve learned through experience that I can sometimes trigger this mode, particularly when reading a book or listening to a super interesting podcast.
I also learned that running, having a panoramic view (e.g., while hiking on a mountain), and walking as well as just sitting still (ideally while moving and seeing surroundings passing by, e.g. on a train or bus) help me contemplate, i.e. think deeply and long about certain ideas.
I am also currently experimenting with a thesis I have, namely whether doing a workout, seeking awe-type experiences in nature, or listening to deeply resonating music before doing the above can improve my creative flow state. This is all about being less idle (when it comes to both mind and body) and less location-bound while working, and integrating more embodiment and movement into my “knowledge and creative work”.
It’s, however, less about “manipulating” my environment or implementing a process so I can be more creative, but rather about approaching my environment in a way that transforms it (even if merely in my perception), which subsequently also transforms me.
“This is a serious mistake. A whole generations of people have done that. If you study, how should you study?! Hard. You must study hard. If you work, how should you work? You must work hard.
Why didn't they tell you? You must study joyfully. Why didn't they tell you? You must work lovingly.”
Sadhguru
All in all, what I am trying to do by experimenting with these new ways of working is to break out of today’s dominant approach to work that feels quite machine-like and meaning- as well as joy-deprived.
My experiments, so far, are merely that: experiments. I still have to learn a lot more about the underlying narrative shifts involved here, the science behind all of this, better strategies for transitioning from the old way to this new way of working, and new ideas for practices that nurture embodiment. So this is to be continued! 😉
But I am already realizing that this new embodied approach doesn’t only feel more human or natural, more meaningful, and joyful; it also leads to much better work.
“To live as an artist is a way of being in the world.”
Rick Rubin
That’s it for this week’s Friday issue!
As always, I hope this inspires some new thoughts and ideas! Enjoy your weekend, and see you next week on Wednesday for the weekly Rabbit Holes issue!
Do leave a like and share this with a friend, if you enjoyed reading it! 😁
Cheers,
Thomas
PS: If you enjoyed this topic, the piece below from December explores a similar topic:
I think you might enjoy Dr Warren Lett’s book ‘An Inquiry into Making Sense of Our Lives’.
He was one of the founders of the MIECAT Institute, a creative art therapy school here in Melbourne, Australia that teaches an inquiry framework of embodied experiencing.
One of my favourite songs by Tina Dickow bubbled up to me reading your words:
https://open.spotify.com/track/0k8cD3mCwopP8dEa2jyWKX?si=UANp2cA7RI-HxZ6bkJF8Ew&context=spotify%3Asearch%3Aquarter%2Bto%2Bfor
Reading about how you are now jotting down your thoughts and then going back to them, clustering and prioritising, reminded me of the 'second brain' theory (is it a theory? a mind frame? a cult?)