On tools and progress

[anecdata]

A bit of a harder time getting up today. I've continued my minimalization trend for more things lately. Working without distractions and music definitely seems to help me complete things. Brown noise and rain noise seem to be the exception. The former has been great at toning down tinnitus. So much so, that it becomes nearly imperceptible while in deep focus.

I've also been doing the cleaning up thing when it comes to software (and my workflow). There are a lot of specialized software that are great at what they do. But I don't need it. More specialized software or configurations don't make you better at the activity. You could have the most expensive art program, but if you don't draw- does it really matter? Plus, why pay a high price for a software because it can do more things? It used to feel justified because of course I'd use it someday. Someday. That, and the act of looking for, saving, and purchasing these specialized tools feels good. It feels like you're making progress. Like you're getting better at it. But really, you're not. it is a lie. But you still get the ltitle drips of dopamine. So you continue journeying to someday. Someday never comes.

At one point or another, you may find yourself at risk of that illusion shattering. Perhaps you've acquired a cadre of expensive cameras, fountain pens, or mechanical keyboards. You have all these really nice specialzied tools, and you look at the things you're using them for. What are you creating? What are you doing? It may be at this point that you feel a tinge of dissonance. I have all these things, so naturally I must be a photographer/writer/artist. But you don't see the output. Your skill hasn't improved. You've merely acquired a lot of tools. How do you find consonance? You could spend time and develop the skill and use whatever tool you have around. Or, you could dip into more dopamine buy purchasing yet another tool. You may chose differently, but I consistently chose the latter.

Even with software, I found myself doing this. To make matters worse, I would continue wasting time with these overly complicated programs. Because I needed to get my money's worth. Which meant more fiddling around, and less working on the actual activiy. The appeal of this all is that it really does feel like you're doing something. It's proactive procrastination. You are always busy, but you're not going anywhere. Someday when your workflow is optimized. Someday when your tools are ideal. Then- you tell yourself- then you'll do the writing/drawing/photography.

It's dangerous bcause it's so much easier to temporarily get rid of dissonance by buying new things than it is to actually develop your skills. So until you come to a point where you cut out paths for acquiring more things, you're liable to do it again. Until you're mindful of the activity and the tools you already have. The satisfaction and dopamine is a lot more steady when you actually do the thing. But it is slower and takes more time. The payoff is there, but it's much more nuanced.

Comments

[varidog]

I hear what you're saying.

These are questions that I have when looking at tools: Have I earned it? Does it solve an actual problem? Can I support it? Do I even have room for it? Do I still need it? Should I clear that space for more?

I'd love to say that there's an easily definable point for each acquisition, each investment, but there's not. At some point, not having an appropriate tool proves too burdensome. That's where I tend to sit, but not always.

All tools solve problems, but the more your problem strays from the tool intended solution, the more complicated things get. The more nebulous the problem, the more complex the tool. They're really tool boxes, collections of tools, which require more investment, as each sub-tool provides value with its own mechanism.

[anecdata]

I think you hit it on the nail.