give it time

I’ll start by foreshadowing the primary point of this post: how valuable having time can be when it comes to communicating effectively. But perhaps not in the way you might expect.

I’m wrapping up teaching an intensive 10-week online course. The process was pretty all-consuming. It was an opportunity to organize concepts in an entirely fresh manner, spreading content out over time and delving into more topics in greater depth than we do in our workshops. This meant a good amount of effort was spent on content development for ten brand new weekly lectures. It was also quite rigorous for the students: each week to augment said lecture, they had assignments that spanned readings from both books and this blog, listening to podcast episodes, watching videos, completing exercises, and developing a comprehensive course project.

Part of my energy went toward creating a new robust case study to use throughout the course to illustrate concepts. It was inspired by a real scenario, but with many details and all of the data changed. I realized in crafting it that I often take shortcuts that I didn’t want to use on this occasion. Rather, I wanted to show all the nuts and bolts that go into building something completely from scratch—down to things like the super tactical (and incredibly practical) process of starting from a blank slate and building a slide template, while sharing my thoughts and the many decisions that get made along the way.

I modeled the case study over the course of several weeks, taking sizable breaks from it along the way as I turned my attention to creating lectures and giving students individual feedback. This was different from building something from start to finish in short order, which is more typically my process. There was an unexpected learning from this: how useful it was to let things sit—to let ideas marinate over time. In reflecting back, it was not only having this time but also when the process took place that was important. The temporal component was purely coincidental, but given the utility I experienced, I plan to intentionally recreate it in the future.

I had already completed a lot of the low-tech planning. I crafted my big idea and storyboarded my general plan of attack. In anticipation of my final illustrative data story presentation, I organized my sticky notes along the general shape of the narrative arc. The sticky notes illustrating this plan sat on the otherwise unused side of my desk for several weeks. I saw them when I walked into my office. Sometimes, I’d pause to take it all in—rearranging things or adding or removing a sticky note as I did. This kept it on my mind. I’d find myself thinking about the scenario or progression as I was brushing my teeth or out for a run. An idea would strike me, and I’d rush into my office at the next opportunity to capture it, continuing to rearrange and refine.

This meant that by the point I was able to turn my full attention to my materials and really start creating, I had a solid plan. It had been vetted over time. And it was a much better plan than one I would have executed if I’d just powered straight through at the very beginning. 

So the simple learning I share with you today is to give it time. 

This can be of particular use when you’re working on a critical project (which, ironically, seems to be when we allow the least amount of time for such things). Set aside time to let it sit. Put your plan where you can see it, and let it take shape through continued reflection and refinement. Don’t let the desire for efficiency surpass what could be made so much better with these understated measures.

As I type this now, I realize I’ve been doing the exact same thing in another space. I’m in the process of writing book #3 but put it aside for the past couple of months in order to focus on the course. The whole while, the outline in the form of sticky notes has been present on the closet door in my office. Though it hasn’t been on my mind as frequently as the case study was when I was in the midst of it, there have been times that I’ve stood in front of it, staring at the stickies, moving things around, retitling a section, or making other changes. I’m confident that this process of allowing time for ideas to marinate will result in a better book as well.

What in your world might benefit from giving it a little more time?