This post isn’t actually about email. It’s about learning.
But one of the things I learned a long time ago is that email isn’t work.
It’s the illusion of work.
You read email. You sort email. You delete email. You write email. You send email.
It feels like work. But it’s actually close to the equivalent of shuffling papers around on a desk. It’s moving information.
It feels good to clear out the inbox. It is relatively easy and it is something we can see.
But it is rarely someone’s job to manage an inbox. More likely than not, your job has nothing to do with email. Yet it is where we spend a whole lot of time, convincing ourselves this is what it is all about.
I’ve been feeling this way lately when it comes to learning. As life gets busier, it is easy to just keep tweaking productivity systems to expand your personal bandwidth and squeeze out just a tiny bit more productivity.
Task lists, calendars, timers. It’s all good. It helps.
But, there are only so many hours in a day and we have only so much attention. Where is the learning coming from? Are we still learning?
This reflection comes partly from listening to a recent podcast where the guest spoke about the need to further retool his schedule to ensure there is built-in time for learning.
And by learning, I don’t mean reading and sharing articles or listening to podcasts.
I’m talking about dedicated study. Intense reading. Practicing skills. The things that you cannot do in “moments in-between.”
If you read this morning’s newsletter, you know this is on my mind. I haven’t figured it out yet. My hunch is that if we think just because we’re doing okay and can continue to grind that this means we are still growing, we’re wrong.
In the same way that losing weight and keeping weight off becomes more challenging as we age, I think there is a related challenge when it comes to learning and growth.
If we really want to learn and grow, we have to challenge our own assumptions about what is still important. What can we move to open up a dedicated hour a day to just reading? Or language study? Or coding? Or an instrument?
Reading and listening to “stuff” – even good stuff – is the illusion of learning. It’s good, but it is no replacement for the deep work required to actually improve.
I’ll let you know if I figure it out.