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7 Slow Productivity Questions to build your brand with less stress, more fun, joy and no burnout

7 Slow Productivity Questions to build your brand with less stress, more fun, joy and no burnout

Don’t Burnout and Panic

That’s the First Rule.

The trouble with trouble is that when you’re in trouble it’s kinda troubling to know what to do when with your trouble, and oh boy I was in trouble, it was troubling and more trouble was coming.

Alone. I’d just left the hotel and taken a left, up the wet and rocky hill.

The Port Garverne, Hotel swallowed by the verdant coast line, like a hairy green monster gobbling up a blue Tic Tac.

Cornwall. Last week. Recording two podcasts 1. Jack Stein 2. Tarquin Leadbetter. Both AHH-mazing conversations.

I left the The Port Gaverne, Hotel. Ventured on a walk (or hike) (nay power walk) (no, no, Power Hike).

On my hike, I passed a panoply of power walkers with mandatory full-volume verbose arm actions, swinging like Gypsy-Candy-Floss-Drenched-Dodgy Fair Ground rides (we get it mate, you’re on a a Power Walk….you, Little Power Ranger, you).

Marvellously-malevolent clouds slowly crawled in like Big Fat Famished Killer Whales on the hunt. They opened their mouth. Cold anger and hot tears thrashed down. Biblical rainfall. Rain the size of chubby golf balls.

And this, my friend, was troubling as this is where the trouble came in.

Don’t Burnout and Panic

That’s the First Rule.

Well, I was fucking panicking my little tits off.

An indescribable rapturous itch scratched my body into a voluptuous pavlova of delicious panic. Get me off this fucking Mountain, or Cliff or Toe path fucking hill-thingy-ma-gig.

ASAP ROCKY por for fucking verooo.

I piously pined for the warm cuddles of pub or The Port Gaverne, Hotel. Hot Chocolate. Sweet. Sweet with splodges of heavy snow white cream. Blissfuly doom-scrolling the Daily Mail TV & Show Biz Section.

Will.I.am. Doesn’t know who Where.He.is??…. Harry Styles New Hair Style…”

Eventually, I escaped the trouble and foun warm snuggly blanket of boozer. She soothed my rain-soaked bones. I nudged for a table in the corner. The small one with near the window with the small flickering candles.

Opposite me was a cute old Northern Couple. You know, the ones that eat 99p Flakes on park benches with lots of lipstick-red strawberry sauce. They, like me, kagools cajoled by the thunderous hell-bent rain.

They tittered “bloody ‘ell, love, that weather’s bloody miserable in’t it”… “Shall we get some Thai Sweet Chilli Crisps… bloody ell’ love… yer pushin’ the boat aat ain’t yee” “Thaaaai Sweeeeettt Chilli - yer bloody crazy, Karl?”

I ordered some bread and butter and a Diet Coke and ice with Lemon slice. Very nice. Suddenly, I couldn’t believe it. A rustle. A noise. A something.

On the adjacent table was THE Power Couple. Head of The Power Wakers Guild. THE Power Walkers-Power Couple. Brace of Nerd. Milk-bottle pasty. Pasty scoff hounds. Part

The Power Walker Power Couple wore big old’-been-there-fucking-hiked-that- hiking boots. Green and purple waterproofs and maps and compasses and checklists and clingfilm-wrapped sad sarnies.

I thought to myself, Jesus?

Is that REALLY THE Power Walker Power Couple,

Maybe I should grab a Selfie? No… no… play it cool, Dan. Play it cooooooooooolllll MothaaaFuckaaaa

His head looked like a big fat white snooker ball, rolled in vaseline, hair smudged on like strands of receding grey cabbage.

PWC Power Walker Peter.

Maybe, he’s the Head Don of the Power Walker elite?

He’s definitely a Jason. No…no.. no..it can’t be… definitely a Peter. “Pete” down the Badminton Club. Prolific Pete at PWC. Dirty Petey in the bedroom.

She, a Miranda… or.. A Jackie. Yup. Deffo a Jackie…hhhmmmmm…yes, a Jackie. A Jackie for sure. I’m sure. Year 5 Geography teacher…me thinkies…eats satsumas-with-small-hands. Contributes heavily and heartily at the Harvest Festival. A kuuumbyaaaaMAaaaaaLord

I was nestling into my symphony of Bread and Butter

The couple flirted heavily. Coquettish Cannon Balls dropped from the sky and splattered into RaginG Horn. Power Couple had Power Walked to St Booby Bay “waaaheyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy”

A meek mawkish stench of wet dog and salt and vinegar crisps and tepid Doombar breath and PG13-Gear 2 Horn percolated the pub.

The Northern Couple, all elderly and cute and slowly crunching their Thai Chilli Crisps, shot me a this-is-weird-look

I volleyed back with a fuck me-tell me about it-don’t know where to look-look

They played back a soft drop-shot look of don’t yer worry love-it’ll be rate- it’ll all be over soon-look.

She tickled his nose. Little Petey bloody loves his nose being tickled. He-he-he-he. No start it. No stop it. You start it. NO. STOP IT.

Behind his steaming glasses, Pete’s beady-greedy little Guinea Pig eyes fluttered around like a thousands butterflies released from a cage.

A brace of Shandies swooned and landed on their table, Jackie…was giving Pete the look of… “you ready for a Handy Shandy, Peter McCallister… My Dirty Little Petey”

Dear Old Jackie was ready to whisk for a Her Dirty Little Petey off for a Handy Shandy, maybe…followed by a bit of “Death In Paradise Catch Up” on the iPlayer on the iPad. iShagPad.

Back to The First Rule: Don’t Burnout and Panic

Panic is something that punctuates my life.


I worry about LITERALLY everything.
Turn my imagination into worry, constantly.
Brain swirls overthinks at a crazy speed.
Overthink EVERYTHING.
Created problems in my mind about nothing.
Plagued with self doubt.
Am I good enough?
Is this podcast shit?
Will it work?
Will this guest like me?
Are we growing?
What am I even doing?
Is this working?

In Cornwall, I’ve been studying Cal Newport “Slow Productivity”.

It’s really changed the way I’m approaching building HUNGRY.

For ages, I believed Stress = success.

I’m slammed. B2B2b2b2b backed. Backed against the wall. Up against it. Down in the Trenches. Snowed Under, Under the Coch.

In our founders world. Being Stressed is a Badge of Honour. It’s earning our stripes. A status symbol. Showing people you’re working hard enough.

Cuff me Mr. Officer, I’m guilty. The amount of times I say I’m Slammed. Why? I know it gives me status.

Slammed = Status.

b2b = Badge of Honour

Imagine, you meet another founder and you say “Yeh I feel totally relaxed, everything's going great, can’t complain and I’m only working 5 hour a day”.

Even that sentence just feels WRONG.

You don’t, do you?
I don’t.
I love saying I’m stressed or slammed. I know it garners me status.

As I’m taking HUNGRY to the next level, I’ve realised my goal is infinite, there is no end point.

My goal is to just keep playing the game. It’s a war of endurance and attrition. I just need to NOT burnout and keep the joy in building.

Here’s 7 Questions to ask yourself to work less work

  1. How can I work as hard as I can WITHOUT burning out?

  2. What would this look like if it were easy?

  3. What’s a resource I currently have that I’m not using?

  4. Am I in the Impact Zone or the Busy Zone?

  5. If I could only spend 2 hours a week on the business to grow the business where would I spend it?

  6. When am I taking 4 hours out of my week to do nothing?

  7. How am I going to have fun today?

I’d also check out this essay:

Paul Graham, Makers vs. Managers Schedule

Check out this podcast, Chris Williamson, Cal Newport Slow Productivity

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