If there is one accepted truth within the productivity canon, it is that deep work—as much of it as possible—is the holy grail. But, like the holy grail, it is rare and hard to secure.

Most of this axiom stems from a single key insight. Context shifting –changing between unrelated tasks—is hard. It exerts a kind of cognitive “tax”. In fact, it is so universally vilified that a search of “context shifting” yields 1,010,000,000 results—of which (according to Leo, the AI) 100% have negatively framed titles. 

100%!

Those two basic ideas—that context sifting is costly, and that deep work is critical—lie at the heart of all productivity methods.  Whether Getting things Done, Zen to Done, Time Blocking, or my own, they all aim to maximize deep work and minimize context shifting.

The implications of these beliefs are significant. Chief amongst them is the idea that we should avoid interruptions and try to reduce context shifting.

The Productivity Gospel

These have become articles of faith. And I am far from a rebel in that respect. My own productivity coaching rests on the same premises.

But, one day, as I bent over a keyboard straining for the right word, there was an uninvited knock on my door. My immediate reaction was annoyance. I stared at the cursor, grumbling under my breath about the rudeness of this unknown door knocker. Maybe if I continued to stare at the screen I could have a quick epiphany. It didn’t come. The surprise visitor was waiting, so I switched out of consternation and into my guarded door-answering mode. Interruptions.

Grrrr. New context. Double Grrrr.

And then, despite my firm anti-interruption, pro-deep work stance, I suddenly saw that this might all be upside down.

 Two questions arose.

1)     Why are we were so willing to surrender to the certainty that we are inherently bad at context shifting, especially since it’s so hard to avoid? Why don’t we just get better shifting our focus?

2)    Must interruptions be troublesome? As hard as we try to defend our time to focus, interruptions happen anyway. And because we vilify them, each interruption feels like an assault. That makes life very annoying. Could interruptions be joyful?

In this two-part article series I will address both issues. This first is about finding joy and delight despite interruptions and context shifting.

The second is about getting better at shifting focus from one thing to another.

Together, they offer a paradigm shift that may produce both greater joy and more productivity without any big change in habits or behavior.  

Focus Interrupted 

For people trying to avoid changes in context, there are scheduling and work tools and methods. But unless you are like Carl Jung who famously sequestered himself in Bollingen Tower, or JK Rowling who spent 6 months finishing the Harry potter series in a hotel in remote Scotland, you cannot avoid all interruptions.

They come in a variety of forms: incoming messages, texts and alerts (which you can turn off)—but also, if you work from home—the UPS guy, your kids or spouse, and the leaf blowing at all hours.

Plus, those are just the external interruptions. 

We also interrupt ourselves. Whether it is boredom, feeling stuck, remembering a chore or errand, or an impromptu urge to check the weather or X/Twitter. 

 

Our internal lives are harder to shut off than our email alerts. Every interruption shifts the context. And mostly, they are unavoidable.

Thwarted Expectations

Interruptions don’t just cause us to shift focus. They also upset us.

This is especially true if you have staked a lot on your own calendar’s predictability by carefully maximizing uninterrupted time.

A basic truth about people is that whenever we do not get what we expect, we feel disappointed, and maybe, upset. My own calendar is usually a minefield of soon-to-be-thwarted expectations.  

But, the aggravation we feel at interruptions is a massive waste of energy. Why? Because given the likelihood of interruptions, expecting otherwise is irrational. They are inevitable and prolific. 

Life transpires in the form of interruptions, interlopers, surprises, and annoyances. And if we expect long periods of uninterrupted deep work, then the normal course of each day will upset us.

But we can short-circuit it by altering the context. [click to tweet this thought]

Welcoming Interruptions

Could we let go of that expectation? Yes. That’s a start. But the more fundamental shift is to create a completely different context for them. Any reframing would start with giving up the expectation that they won’t occur. They will. Having expectations that are sure to fail is a kind of craziness.

You may want to win the lottery, but if you expect to win it we suspect you are a bit unhinged. It’s no more rational to expect no interruptions. But even without the expectation of no interruptions, if we believe that an interruption is bad for our concentration, it will still upset us. 

Viewed as toxic intrusions, they’re unwelcome. So, letting go of the expectation not to be interrupted is a baby step. It will likely deliver something like resignation.

But resignation is far from inspiring as a goal. To achieve joy (why not?), we need a new story about them.

How would they feel to us if we both expected them and found a way to see them as positive rather than annoying?

For myself, I have decided that interruptions are my own serendipitous way of using the Pomodoro Technique. I don’t need a stopwatch. I just start working as scheduled and inevitably something interrupts me. It’s now a welcome respite.

Although we won’t get to this until next week, when you start to think of yourself as “in training” to shift focus faster—suddenly, interruptions have a different role. They are practice sessions.

Since I have already read next week’s article, I have put my own brain on notice. Brain (I said), We are in training to switch contexts on a dime.

With that context set, the more interruptions the more intense the “workout”.

Changing the Script

Since interruptions are inevitable, and thwarted expectations upset us, the normal way of thinking about planning will likely drive us all mad.

There is a lot of ancient wisdom about this phenomenon—the one in which we expect life to conform to our intentions. You’ve probably heard a version of it before. The Yiddish expression Der Mensch Tracht, Und Gott Lacht, captures it well: 

Man plans and God laughs. 

Don’t stop planning. But consider the possibility that expecting any day to go exactly as planned is folly.

Ultimately, our expectations—whether about how today will go, or about whether your girlfriend will remember your anniversary— they do little but set us up for disappointment.

But it is in our nature to have expectations; often unrealistic ones. So, having no expectations is not a real option. Plus, it would suck. Anticipation is a great source of joy. 

Still, when our expectations are thwarted, we do have a choice. We can be upset and inwardly rail against the culprit who did it. Or, we can create a different way to think about it.

And while you’re creating new contexts for experience, why not go way beyond reducing annoyance? You could choose a context that creates delight! Or joy. Or laughter. 

Instead of expecting predictability, you could expect surprises. Some of those surprises will be interruptions. That takes the annoyance out of the interruption and replaces it with curiosity and whimsy.

The Daily Adventure

In French, the word journée means “day” as experienced. For example, when you wish someone a good day you say Bon journée. Journée and journey both come from the same Latin word, diurnum, which means a day’s travel or a day’s work.

One possible new context is to relate to each day as a journey. Maybe it’s an adventure trip. Or even a safari.As an adventure, the ebbing and flowing, internal urges to scroll Instagram, knocking of door-to-door sales people, neighbors’ lawn mowers and crying baby all become features of the experience. They are more like an unexpected sighting of a lone hippo or an invitation to dine with a local family. They add spice to an otherwise predictable journey.

When you alter your perspective, the upset vanishes. You’re still left with the context shifts around each interruption. But now, they aren’t a bug but a feature.

To Ponder

Here’s a next question. What kind of feature are they?

Could they be opportunities?

In next week’s article I’ll share some of the tools and methods to become better at shifting your focus on the fly. 

It is a skill, and like all others, you can get better at it. 

One hint. Some of what enables fast focus has to do with how present you are when you are doing any given task. In other words, focus begets focus. You can deepen both your focus —and your ability to swing back into it—with some very simple work habits. More on that to come.