Red Maple by Bruce / Flickr

Passion has become a cheap word. I’m starting to roll my eyes when I hear it. But it hasn’t always been this way.

It all started when I read a 2010 post by Siddhartha Herdegen, “Why You Don’t Need Passion to Be Successful.” It was the first time I questioned one of my dearly held personal values: passion for my day-to-day work.

For the past year, I’ve been on the admissions committee for the E-Media Division at the University of Cincinnati, and I’ve become numb to students who claim, “[x] is my passion.”

If true, who cares? Every other student has a passion, too. What matters is how that translates into action. Show me what you’ve done because of your passion. Show me through action that you really mean it and aren’t flirting with it. Show me that you’ve struggled and remained resilient. Show me that you have discipline.

Recently, I ran across this quote:

Passion is the quickest to develop, and the quickest to fade. Intimacy develops more slowly, and commitment more gradually still.

—Robert Sternberg

I’ve taught hundreds of students with passion. I teach few students with commitment to do the best work possible.

I think part of the problem is how we define passion, so allow me to introduce Herdegen’s definition:

Passion is a deep connection to an idea, a strong bond which creates a feeling of desire. It contains elements of both commitment and excitement but is not limited to them.

Passion plus commitment is not too common in my experience. More often you find:

• a person with a passion for something but lacking talent (sometimes due to lack of ability to practice for the time required, lack of a mentor, etc.)
• a person with a talent for something without a passion for pursuing it
• a person with either talent or passion but no ability to commit (whether through life circumstance or otherwise)

I run into all of these types—at school, at conferences, in daily conversation.

It seems like the cultural myth these days is that we ought to be pursuing our passion; otherwise we will be unhappy. I’m not so sure that’s true any more. As long as we do work that feels satisfying—that complements our personal values and strengths—we can all do just fine, especially if we have relationships that are also fulfilling and satisfying.

There’s another category of person I haven’t mentioned: those struggling to figure out what their passion is. The questions I then pose are:

• What are you avoiding? (There’s a reason, and don’t feel guilty about it.)
• What activities or interactions do you most look forward to, anticipate, and hope for more of?
• What activities or interactions do you value or prioritize on a daily basis?
• What activities can you get lost in? (Time stops; you’re in the flow.)

The answers might not lead to “passion” + “commitment,” but I think they help pave the way to a happier life.

by Emilie Ogez / Flickr

To some, I may appear productive. But like many, I’m a horrible procrastinator.

I try to think about my weakness in positive terms, e.g., “I work better under pressure.” That is true—I believe there’s nothing like a deadline to force you to be creative (one reason why I love blogging!). However, for some projects, I know that if I had budgeted my time better, I could’ve produced superior work, rather than passable or “good” work.

Recently, I’ve devised a system that has all but ended my horrible procrastination. I’d like to share it because I know I’m not unique, and most procrastinators enjoy discovering new “cures” to experiment with.

Warning: This solution does require the use of lists, which I know some people hate. (I’m looking at you, Christina!)

Step 1: Start with a master list.

You probably have a master to-do list. If you don’t, create one. Here’s a form I created that limits your to-dos to one week. If you have to-dos that stretch out further than a week, it can become overwhelming and meaningless. In the case of to-do lists, it’s best to stay in the moment as much as possible, to guide your most immediate work.

That said, if you need a reminder about a future project or deadline, put that on a different list or create a reminder/alarm. On my own worksheet, I have something called the “parking lot” that is exactly for those things too far out for me to attend to. Writing them down helps free my mental energy, so I can focus on other things.

Don’t put anything on your list that sounds like this:

• Finish my novel
• Work on XYZ project
• Build a website

You’ve just listed massive projects that need smaller action steps. For big projects, create a separate project list that breaks everything down into small action steps. This is really important! If you don’t have a specific next task you can easily tackle, you will procrastinate because you feel overwhelmed. It will induce paralysis. Repeat after me: Break down each project into its smallest possible components.

Step 2: Using Post-It notes, break up the week’s tasks by day.

Two critical points here:

• Post-It notes are small enough to prevent you from adding too many tasks to your day, but big enough to give you an overview of 2-3 days at a time. I list the days across the top, then draw a vertical line between them. (See below.)
• Breaking up the tasks by day prevents you from saying, “Oh, I’ll get to that tomorrow.” This is important! I used to work off a master to-do list that was never-ending. Often I felt paralyzed by the amount of work I could select from; I didn’t know what to tackle first, so I delayed and did nothing. I waited for the nearest deadline to compel me to action. But when you have the whole week outlined, and you’ve strategically master-minded everything on Sunday or Monday, with all the tasks segmented by day, you feel you have things under control. You budget your time better. You get into a rhythm.
• Hint: I used to create one-day lists, not one-week lists. Once I switched to the one-week view, I became FAR more productive. Why? With one-day views, it was VERY easy for me to say, “Oh, that’ll get done tomorrow.” When I have a set of NEW tasks already outlined for the next day, I’m far less likely to make excuses. I need the week’s big-picture to keep me motivated and focused.
• For tasks that are more time-consuming, break them up into Parts 1, 2, 3 (etc), and schedule them over the course of the week. This gives you permission to jump around your to-do list, keep things interesting, and make the difficult tasks more manageable and approachable.

[Update: The discussion in the comments—on this site as well as my Google Plus profile, among others—has made me realize that my post title, "Look for People Who Believe What You Believe," is misleading and unintentionally provocative. It isn't meant to be a blanket statement about how to live life. Rather, it's about how we develop meaningful relationships—and come to trust others—in particular contexts. I hope watching the video will reveal how Sinek's message is far more complex and nuanced than my unhelpful and simplistic title summary!]

I’ve loved Simon Sinek ever since I heard his TED talk, Start With Why.

The 99 Percent has now made his more recent talk available, “If You Don’t Understand People, You Don’t Understand Business.” It’s a half-hour talk, and it’s worth every minute of your time.

But if you don’t have time, here are a few important soundbites. For anyone concerned about being more human in marketing and social media (as well as everyday life!), this is a must-watch. If you read my post yesterday, then you know the importance of building community. But your question might be: How do I find my community?

That’s what this is all about—from a big-picture perspective.

When we’re surrounded by people who believe what we believe, trust emerges. … We need trust. When we’re surrounded by people who believe what we believe … we’re more willing to take risks, we’re more willing to experiment (which requires failure), we’re more willing to explore and go somewhere that no one has ever gone before, with the confidence that if we fail, if we trip over, if we turn our backs, that those within our community … will look after us while we’re gone, will pick us up when we fall over … Our very survival depends on it.

We’re not good at everything. We’re not good by ourselves. … We all have our certain strengths and our certain weaknesses, and the goal isn’t to fix your weaknesses, the goal is to amplify your strengths, and to surround yourself with people who can do what you can’t do.

But it’s just not based on skills and application and experience; it’s based on what you believe. Simply being good at something and having somebody else being good at what you’re no good at doesn’t mean you will trust each other. Trust comes from the sense of common values and common beliefs.

If I ask you to go out on the street and find all the people who believe what you believe, you know exactly what to do. You’re going to strike up conversations, you’re going to start talking to people. Either you’ll have a good feeling about them, or you won’t. … Sometimes it’s quick, sometimes it’s slow. But we know how to do it. It’s called making friends, it’s called dating, it’s called networking. We have the innate ability to do it.

The problem is it’s not scalable. The problem is you’re the only one who had that gut feeling.

But if you know the symbols to look for, if you know how to see the things that people are doing and you can find them … [If they have a symbol], if they have something they’re giving off that says something about who they are and what they believe … [then you trust them].

We don’t trust everyone. We trust people within our community. But you have to know what to look for. Every decision we make in our lives is a piece of communication. It’s our way of saying something about who we are and what we believe. This is why authenticity matters. This is why you have to say and do the things you actually believe. Because the things you say and do are symbols of who you are. And we look for those symbols so we can find people who believe what we believe. … So if you’re putting out false symbols, you will attract people to those symbols but you won’t be able to form trust with them.

The goal of putting something out there: If you say what you believe and you do what you believe, you will attract people who believe what you believe.

The more you can give of yourself, the more you can give of what you believe, the more you can with discipline say and do the things you actually believe, strange things start to happen … Simply because of one tiny little symbol that was put out there that we are from the same place, we may have the same values, we may have the same beliefs, we’re drawn to each other, and [then] we legitimately trust each other and more importantly, will look out for each other.

You’ll have to watch the video to find out how Simon earned a homeless person more money in 2 hours than in a full day of begging. And I hope you do watch. The real impact of this video (and his message) comes from his anecdotes/examples, and in the genuineness of his delivery. He is a joy to listen to.

As a P.S., anyone not feeling fulfilled in their work ought to watch RIGHT NOW.

On the last day of April 2008, I launched my first professional blog, There Are No Rules.

Every day since then, I’ve thought about what to tell writers that would be helpful, insightful, and a little bit provocative.

While I will no longer be posting my perspective at No Rules (though the archives will remain with Writer’s Digest), here at JaneFriedman.com, you can still get my perspective—and participate in a conversation with me—on writing, publishing, and the future of media.

One thing’s for sure: I’ll be raising the bar, and offering more challenging content. My goal is still to help writers (as well as all creative media professionals) be knowledgeable, proactive, and better in touch with where it’s all headed—and how to engage, adapt or resist. All options are on the table.

Thanks for visiting me here, and I hope I continue to deserve your time.

Jane moderating AWP 2011 transmedia panel

I don’t think my age is a secret, but just to be clear: I’m 34.

It’s not talent or smarts.

 2. Being dedicated and consistent. This is nearly the same as No. 1, but relates to what I pushed out to the world, or my external-facing career. When I started a blog, it wasn’t immediately successful. But I stuck with it, and I improved my skills. Same with speaking at events, same with Facebook, same with Twitter, same with other stuff that isn’t yet fruitful.

When I attended TEDxCincy in October 2010, there was one session where I was furiously taking notes: the session by Grant McCracken, author of Chief Culture Officer. Click here to find out more about the fascinating McCracken.

[For more on my so-so experience of TEDxCincy, read "7 Lessons for Delivering a Powerful Message."]

So, here’s the best of what I captured [mostly verbatim] from McCracken’s talk. I’ve been trying harder to incorporate these practices into my life.

Study slow culture, not just fast.
We must be well-informed and keep up, of course. But we must have deeper understanding of American culture. Don’t just talk about the latest thing, that’s about 20% of what we need to be talking about—the froth, the churn. We understand it better when we understand the history and depth. Innovation coming from everywhere, we feel like we’re hydroplaning, as if patterns are no longer possible.

Track, not just spot.
We must track things over time, we must look with care at assumptions when we’re wrong and right. Study maps of culture; study displays that allow us to talk about and pick up trends over the long term. We want to have a sense of all the stuff that’s moving, so that when we read about a specific piece of information at a specific moment in time, we can say: Yeah, we’re tracking that—or that’s just noise.

From Solitude by Anthony Storr:

Human beings need a sense of being part of a larger community than that constituted by the family. The modern assumption that intimate relationships are essential to personal fulfillment tends to make us neglect the significance of relationships which are not so intimate. …

The fact that a man is part of a hierarchy, and that he has a particular job to carry out, gives his life significance. It also provides a frame of reference through which he perceives his relation with others. In the course of daily life, we habitually encounter many people with whom we are not intimate, but who nevertheless contribute to our sense of self. …

Relationships of this kind play a more important role in the lives of most of us than is generally recognized. When people retire from work in offices or institutions, they miss the familiar figures who used to provide recognition and affirmation. It is generally accepted that most human beings want to be loved. The wish to be recognized and acknowledged is at least as important. …

People who have a special need to be recognized, perhaps because their parents accorded them little recognition in childhood, are attracted to office life for this reason. …

Intimate attachments are a hub around which a person’s life revolves, not necessarily the hub.

One of the classes I’m teaching at CCM requires me to study up on the history and practice of public relations.

I’m not exactly a stranger to the profession. I worked for a major media company that has always employed publicists. I’ve written press releases. I count publicists and PR folks among my friends, right? Etc.

But the more I study public relations, the more it feels like propaganda.

And the more I study it, the more it feels like social media is an arm of public relations.

I know social media is supposed to be (at heart) about conversation + connection, but haven’t I used it to build my own public image? To build the image or story that benefits my career and future?

Don’t I advise writers to do the same? To use it as a form of public relations?

On the other hand, it’s a very personal and immediate form of “public” relations.

When you have an all-worlds-collide method in your online life, as I do, then you have all kinds of relationships that mix at every moment—because I really hate to segment. I like to think everything can co-exist harmoniously, since I enjoy transparency, honesty, authenticity. (Though perhaps even that is manufactured?)

But … when it’s all-access, all-the-time, it’s not the strangers (or the public) who present the challenge.

It’s the personal connections. Their presence sticks—throughout the ups and downs of the relationship—unless we forcibly break the bond. Go cold turkey. Disappear.

Social media makes the dissolution of relationships much harder to bear than ever before.

These special people (or those who you would like to un-special, at least until you don’t care any more): They stay in your line of sight.

It’s like picking at a scab, seeing if it will hurt, again and again and again. It encourages phantom connection, and emphasizes the pain of disconnect, when you don’t have the intimate backstory behind an update written for thousands.

I went to Hell—without a fight.

I walked down a long and dark corridor with many others, with my (then) husband next to me. Suddenly the corridor opened up onto a square of a city. It looked like Naples—crowded, noisy, dirty.

A large university was on the square, and I instantly felt hope, but it was grimy, crusty—it hadn’t been used in years. Insects were everywhere, crawling, flying. Dirt dirt dirt.

At some point I found out I had to stay for 26 years. My (then) husband eventually disappeared from my side. All activities and accomplishments from past and current life dropped away. Only people remained, but I couldn’t find anyone I knew. So I stayed in strangers’ apartments. It seemed newcomers didn’t have places to stay.

I didn’t know why I was there. People told me I’d find out soon enough.

There was no music. No eating or drinking. Just smoking. But there was noise—where did it come from? And there were movie houses.

At some point, the term of my stay was lengthened 4 years. I never saw devils (or Satan), or any mention of him. There were no advertisements of any kind. No one was trying to escape. I couldn’t figure out: What do people do in Hell?

I was only able to cry when thinking of people I would no longer see, like my mother. And, before he left me, I cried on my (then) husband’s chest.

There were churches in Hell (many), where people sought a hopeful way out—but could it be hopeful?—and to seek mercy from God. Even in Hell there were many religions, all seeking the answer, “Why are we here?”

I could not remember why or how I had died, or any details about my life.

“I just really want to work when I want to work. Life interferes, you know. When you’re young and all you have is your career, some of your life can be in second place. And then you want your life to take first place, and other people don’t see it that way. They see it that your life has to take second place, and it’s hard. Life is really hard, and it’s the only one you have. I mean, I like doing what I do, and I know I’m supposed to do it, but I don’t have anything to bring to it if I don’t live my life.”

Starbucker comments:

“Bill Murray [says] my life is in first place. But he adds something worth paying particular attention to, which I will paraphrase here: If I can’t bring my life to my work, I’m not going to do that work. Life is hard enough.

Let’s stop there for a second. That’s an easy thing to say when you already have more money than you can possibly need, and the main tangible output of work (read, money) isn’t an issue. Mr. Murray certainly is in that category.

How does it play out for those of us who aren’t in that situation? There’s the rub, as Hamlet would say.”

Go read the full, inspiring post.