If you engaged with me in conversation, it would not take
you long to realize that I am a TALKER! I have always had a lot to say, even
before my verbal skills had developed, and that has not changed in adulthood. I
love conversing with others and discussing ideas. When I get to talking about an
interesting clinical case, paper or research idea, I could talk at a rate of “a
million miles per minute”, indefinitely.
Not only do I find speaking aloud helps me develop ideas, but my ideas flourish with the live feedback from
the other(s) engaged in the discussion. If you observed the inner
workings of my mind, you would see that “Kandi Land”, if you will, is generally
a lively and vibrant land busy with a steady flight of ideas, tangential thoughts,
enthusiasm and curiosity. My inner world is so busy I often wonder, how is it
that people feel bored? I am rarely at a loss for words and I could come up
with an engaging story about a paperclip on the spot if prompted. However, when
I sit down at my computer and open up a word document to start writing academically
(if I actually get to that point) it’s like my brain freezes. I feel physically
and mentally incapacitated. The best analogy I can use to describe my
experience is like the Apple/Mac “spinning pinwheel of death”. With all my
ideas and excitement, why do I find it so hard to write? Why is written
communication so much more difficult for me than spoken communication?
As a clinical psychologist, I can explain my experience away
with clinical jargon about the various regions of my brain involved in language,
communication, and my cognitive strengths and weaknesses. Yet a PhD is not needed
to understand the essence of my problem, which is that I get overwhelmed by my
ideas and fail to organize my thoughts in order to write. Despite my knowledge
of the brain and cognitive processes and fully knowing that I need to organize
my thought process, I still struggle with academic writer’s block. Here I am two
and half years into my career as a clinical faculty member, and I find myself
more stuck than ever. Without the
external pressure of deadlines and academic milestones from graduate school, I
find myself engaged in nearly every academic activity except writing!
A few weeks ago, I submitted an abstract for a poster
presentation at an upcoming conference. Only after I finally submitted the
abstract and I was relishing in the relief and sense of freedom, did I realize
how remarkably agonizing and painful I made the writing process. Even though I
had orally communicated the relevance my research interest, my specific
research question, the methods, and scope of the data to be presented in poster
form on multiple occasions, the spinning pinwheel of death took over every time
I attempted to write the abstract. For over a month I repeatedly avoided,
procrastinated, and scared myself out of writing one brief paragraph. As usual,
I did not find the motivation and focus to complete the task until the deadline
was about to pass. By the time I had finished it I was exhausted, which
immediately led to guilt, self-criticism, and shame about how little I
accomplished and how much more I should be writing. Of course, this pattern of
thinking is the opposite of motivating. I often tell my patients to “focus on
the lesson rather than the mistake” and thankfully I decided to take some of my
own advice. So, I began reflecting on what has been getting in my way. In fact,
I agreed to do this blog post as an attempt to get myself unstuck! Committing
to writing this blog post provided me with much needed structure (i.e. clear
writing task and a deadline) to kick me into gear and here is what I learned:
Lesson 1: It is helpful (and often necessary) to break
things down into smaller tasks, then break them down again. I often get lost in
the literature when looking for relevant articles because I find so many
areas of my field interesting. Thus, it is not only overwhelming, but
unrealistic for me to think that I will successfully (1) identify a journal to
submit my (unwritten) article, (2) complete a literature search, (3) read the
articles, and (4) start writing my background in one writing session. However, if
I’m honest, this is the exact expectation that I typically have in mind when I set
out to “work on a paper”, which directly impedes me from actually sitting down to
work. Therefore, I revised my plan to (1) identify potential journals and (2)
organize the literature I have collected over the past year. Unfortunately,
this was still too ambitious and unstructured for me. Three hours later I had
narrowed down three potential journals (success), but I had also downloaded
more than ten new papers, had countless tabs on my computer screen open, and my
kitten had scattered my 20+ articles all over the living room (e.g. less
organized than when I started). So, for my next writing session I plan to organize
the literature I have already collected
in reference list form. Period. After I complete that task, I can move onto
developing an outline to guide future writing blocks.
Lesson 2: Use the
Pomodoro Technique! Time and time again I come back to this technique. It
is a simple and effective time management strategy- set the timer for 25
minutes and work until the timer rings. Set the timer for 5-10 minutes and take
a break. Set the timer for another 25 minutes and repeat.
Lesson 3: To get
unstuck, you have to address the unhelpful thoughts, beliefs, and the emotions undermining
your efforts. Mindfulness, as in present
awareness without judgment, is a useful strategy to interrupt unhelpful ways of
thinking. Kandi-Land is not all sunshine, rainbows and gum drops. Once I started
paying attention to the way I talk to myself and my beliefs about writing, it
was clear that I am my own worst enemy. I cling to unhelpful and irrational
beliefs about the writing process and my own abilities that fuel pervasive
self-doubt. I am a perfectionist and overly self-critical. Oh, and surprise,
it’s not actually helpful to spend your dedicated writing time berating
yourself for all the things you haven’t yet written! To get out of this vicious
cycle/toxic way of thinking I found it helpful to take pause and have a mindful
moment, which is actually quite simple. All you have to do is bring your
attention to the present moment and focus on the live sensations you notice
without evaluating your experience. For example, when I caught myself dwelling
on the things I haven’t written while I was supposed to be writing this post, I
re-directed my attention to where I was sitting, what I could see in front of
me, what I heard, etc., and I effectively interrupted the viscous cycle of
angst and self-doubt. Though it is important to note that I had repeat this
practice over and over again throughout my writing session!
Lesson 4: Lay out a schedule
with deadlines for each task. All this reflection made me realize I am also
overwhelmed by all the other responsibilities I have in life. Planning and
explicitly scheduling time for writing is a tried and true strategy. It worked
for me in graduate school so why haven’t I been put this into practice lately?
Yes, the internal barriers discussed above have played a major role in
deterring me from laying out a schedule, but I have also been very busy
balancing my clinical and administrative responsibilities at work with my
personal life and health. It’s so easy to lose sight of long-term goals and
priorities. So, I have been routinely asking myself questions such as, “Why do
I want to write and publish anyways?” to help me regain perspective and sustain
motivation to write.
Lesson 5: Talk out
loud to get started! I started this post questioning why it is so hard for
me to express my thoughts in written form when it’s so easy for me to orally
express my thoughts. So, I spent some time exploring the underlying processes
of spoken and written communication and felt validated in the difficulties I
experience. Specifically, I found it meaningful to consider the contrast
between spoken language, which is generally unplanned and consists of
incomplete sentences, corrections, and interruptions; and written communication,
which is precise, formal, and permanent. Acknowledging the nuanced, yet
fundamental differences between modes of communication fostered
self-compassion, in terms of appreciating my strengths and to be less punitive toward
my perceived shortcomings. And so, in moving forward with writing, the next
time I am stuck with the spinning pinwheel of death, I will use voice to text
technology to get unstuck (i.e. translate spoken word into written form). Now,
it’s time I move forward with implementing this plan!
Kandi Schmidt, PhD
