Consider: What role does friction play in the creative process for podcasters?

Podcasting is full of friction—technical issues, editing headaches, guests rescheduling, creative blocks. Some podcasters try to eliminate every obstacle, but sometimes, friction is where the best ideas come from. Where do you think friction helps creativity versus just getting in the way?

~ Asked by the LLM(1)

This question leads me to the idea of “simple.” I often ask myself: What is the simplest thing that could possibly work? Because that’s the idea I should start with. It requires no effort for me to imagine adding complications. Keep it simple stupid (KISS) is an adage because it is a valuable compass.

For me then, friction is a sign that there might be a simpler way to do something. It might be quite complicated and involve a lot of work to switch over to a simpler way of doing things, but it’s only when I’m directly considering the friction that I can understand the payoff of such effort.

On the other hand, there may not be a simpler way to do something. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In either case, it’s the friction which prompts me to apply mental effort to search for that simpler way. Creating meaningful work (podcasting in this case, but anything really) requires some amount of effort. Friction is a clear sign that—at the least—I’m actually doing the work.

I suppose that does mean that friction helps creativity. Is friction necessary for creativity? No. But it’s definitely not the enemy of creativity.

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(1) I’m working with an LLM instance which has access to everything I’ve written about podcasting, and all the episodes I’ve published. It prompts me by asking me these questions.


Friction and process

Picasso observed that, “inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” Inspiration has to find you in the midst of your practice.

Let’s say that I enjoy painting. When I find myself painting, I usually find myself happy. I love the feeling of setting down my brush after having worked out some little problem in a painting. And so, I decide I’m going to paint regularly.

Or let’s say I enjoy sailing. I love the adventure, or the wind in my face. And so, I decide I’m going to sail regularly.

Or, running, writing, movement, music … your choice.

But without concrete plans, and clear processes, I will never actually do the practice. Friction, followed closely by excuses, will sap my momentum. If I’m to be a runner, my shoes, clothes, music or whatever I need— Those things must be in place. For any practice there are some things which you will feel must be in place.

The processes that I’m imagining, which remove friction and enable my practice, have a steady state. For my process, what does “done” look like? It looks like me sailing so often I can’t even remember not sailing all the time. Or it looks like me running and jumping and playing so often that my body is a comfortable place for my mind.

Matthew Frederick, the author of 101 Things I learned in Architecture School, makes this point:

True style does not come from a conscious effort to create a particular look. It results obliquely—even accidentally—out of a holistic process.

This point about a holistic process—the idea that mastery isn’t some higgledy-piggledy mish-mash of throwing things together—is an idea I’ve held dearly for a long time. Every single time that I’ve decided to take a process, and repeat it in search of understanding, the learning and personal growth has paid off beyond my wildest dreams.

I’m a process process process person. The second time I have to do something, I’m trying to figure out how to either never have to do that again, or how to automate it. (And failing those two, it goes into my admin day.) Random activity, powered by inspiration works to get one thing done. But inspiration doesn’t work in the long run, and it won’t carry me through my practice.

Instead, I want to know what can I intentionally do to set up my life, so that I later find myself simply being the sort of person who does my chosen practice? I want to eliminate every possible bit of friction that may sap my momentum.

There’s a phrase in cooking, mise en place, meaning to have everything in its proper place before starting. The classic example of failure in this regard is to be half-way through making something only to realize you’re missing an ingredient and having to throw away the food. Merlin Mann, who’s little known beyond knowledge workers, has done the most to improve processes for knowledge workers and creative people. I’m not sure if he’s ever said it explicitly, but a huge part of what he did was to elevate knowledge workers and creatives by cultivating a mise en place mindset.

And don’t confuse “process” or a “mise en place” mindset with goals. Forget goals. Focus on the process, and focus on eliminating friction.

To quote Seth Godin:

The specific outcome is not the primary driver of our practice. […] We can begin with this: If we failed, would it be worth the journey? Do you trust yourself enough to commit to engaging with a project regardless of the chances of success? The first step is to separate the process from the outcome. Not because we don’t care about the outcome. But because we do.

And I’ll give my last words to Vincent Thibault, author of one of my favorite books:

That is how we are still conditioned socially as adults: Do, achieve, produce results, instead of be, feel, enjoy the process. Quantitative over qualitative. We are obsessed by performance and “tangible” results. But that is one of the great teaching of Parkour and Art du Déplacement: That the path is just as enjoyable as the destination; That sometimes it is even more important, and that oftentimes it is the destination.

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Process with Julie Duffy

What are the connections between writing, creativity, and podcasting as explored through the art of conversation?

The discussion highlights the parallels between storytelling in writing and crafting engaging podcasts.

Some people have a terrible time getting started because when you’re about to start writing you could write about anything. And when you can write about anything, you could write about everything. If you can write about everything, then what do you choose?

~ Julie Duffy (4:11)

The conversation centers on the interplay between writing, podcasting, and creative expression. It begins by discussing the challenges of starting a creative project, with an emphasis on how endless possibilities can be paralyzing. This leads to a broader exploration of overcoming creative blocks, the importance of completing projects, and how understanding the end goal can shape the process.

It also goes into the technical and emotional aspects of storytelling, highlighting parallels between crafting a podcast episode and writing a narrative. Topics include structuring stories, preparing mentally for creative tasks, and the unexpected skills that cross over between disciplines. Finally, the discussion emphasizes the value of listening and allowing space in conversations, which reflects a commitment to meaningful dialogue.

(more…)

Is it a process?

Not everything is a process, but much of what you do each day is a process. How much of what you do each day is a process, but you don’t realize it is? Because you’re wasting your life in that gap.

Two examples to illuminate my thinking, then you’re on your own:

Groceries. You know there’s a process for this. Get in car. Travel to store(s). Move through store in the usual pattern. Select things. Pay and leave. Travel home. Exit car. Move purchases into domicile and put them away.

Laundry. Move dirty clothing to the washing machine. Load machine with clothes and detergent. Start machine. Return later. Flip laundry to drier or to hang-dry. Return later. Fold or organize clean laundry. Return clothing to domicile storage.

Every detail of those processes will be different for each of us. You know your exact process very well, and you could tell me your process, just as I’ve done above. But these processes are actually closed loops which you are going to repeat a huge number of times. I could append, “Wear clothes. Repeat.” to the laundry process, and I could add, “Consume food. Repeat.” to the grocery process.

You know you can optimize things, but the entire process can be optimized—should be optimized. If it’s a process, you’re doing it by rote. (Yes, you can focus on what you’re doing and enjoy it. But you’re not doing anything creative.) So optimize the entire process. Is a car the optimal way to go get your groceries? Where do you keep the grocery list? How do things get put onto that list? Where do groceries etc. get stored in your domicile? How do you prepare and plan meals to use the groceries? Where do you store your dirty laundry? Where do you store “wear this again” clothing? How do you store and rotate seasonally changing clothes? How do you replace items that wear out? If it’s a process, you can optimize it and then you can spend less time on it.

Groceries and laundry are simply my examples. What other things do you do in your life that are processes which you haven’t considered at all? If you thought about them, and organized and optimized the process, how much time would it save you? Aren’t you always wishing you had more time? How much better would your mind work if it wasn’t trying to remember, and struggle through poorly-designed, (or worse, figured out on-the-fly each time,) processes?

What could you do with all that extra time?

Could you use that free time for things in your life that are not processes? Read a book… Spend a day relaxing on a beach… Have dinner with a friend…

To me, “life balance” is about how much time I spend on things which are processes versus things which are not processes.

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Anxiously panicking

A couple of weeks ago I started obliterating processes. I’ve often talked about how everything is a process, and I still believe that. However I’d reached a point where I simply had too many processes (I won’t bore you with unbelievable examples) and a couple of weeks ago I decided enough was enough. I spent several days doing nothing but thinking about everything I was doing, and wanted to be doing but wasn’t “getting around to.”

We’re overwhelmed by it all: all the things we have on our plates, all the interruptions and messages and emails, all the things online and on social media, all the news and chaos of the world, all the things going on in our relationships.

~ Leo Babauta from, When You’re Overwhelmed, Simplify

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Some things I do can feel like a chore but when I was honest, they are actually things I enjoy doing. Furthermore, they pay off outsized benefits for the time they require. What then made them feel like chores? I think it was the anxiety of the other things I felt I should be doing—after all, I put those other things on a list or made a process so I could chip away at them in sane-sized chunks. I went through everything, and then started deleting things from that “everything else” space.

Is this simply me oscillating between no-planning, planning, no-planning, planning? Is this a 2/3-life (or, if I pretend I’ll live long, “mid-life”) crisis? Have I said a polite-but-clear “no” to some big things? Have I been having some anxiety-free days? YES, to all of those. I’m currently trying to be vigilant to notice the first thing I get anxious about—because I’m going to delete that next.

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What does making something in public for years actually take?

I’ve been blogging since 2011. Movers Mindset started 2015. Open + Curious in 2024 with a different shape. Podtalk started in there too. Each project has its own arc, and it’s own specific thing that draws me to keep creating. After all this time, I can now see there’s a question I never paid attention to which lies underneath all of them: What does it take to keep making something in public, for years?

The pieces below are about the practice of showing up — what permission feels like, what resistance is, how cumulative invisible work pays off, and what “uphill” writing means. A couple are distilled from Podtalk conversations with people who arrived at hard truths and put them into words. This thread is sequenced for someone who’s making something in public and wondering how to keep at it without burning out, quitting, or going sideways into something they didn’t set out to do.

Permission to continue
7 for Sunday — March 2025

Open with the inheritance. Someone who modeled the practice for me dies, and I realized the permission they gave wasn’t theirs to give. I already had it. Jack London’s club it — go after what you want with force — turns out to be the most generous instruction possible, because it gives you permission to commit even when the outcome is uncertain.

Sit down
constantine.name — November 2024

The Pressfield line that does the most work for me: “It’s not the writing that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write. What keeps us from sitting down is resistance.” Cling to that for everything you’re trying to keep making — it’s not the doing that’s hard. It’s the showing up that’s hard. Really hard.

The illogical thing
Podtalk Field Note — with Cassian Bellino

Cassian got laid off and immediately built everything nobody asked for — courses, communities, funnels. By any reasonable measure it was a mistake. But: “my emotions wouldn’t have settled had I tried the logical thing.” Sometimes what in hindsight is clearly the wrong path, is actually the only way to reach the destination, and the flailing is how some creators process toward clarity.

Bifocals
constantine.name — January 2026

My bifocal attention: solving today’s problem while simultaneously noticing the friction I can’t leave alone. I’ll stop in the middle of the task to write the script, the alias, the doc, the template — not because I’m procrastinating but because that is the real work. The payoff is cumulative and mostly invisible, which is what makes it hard to commit to.

100 issues of my “7 for Sunday” email
constantine.name — August 2024

At the 100-issue mark of 7 for Sunday — three years of weekly issues — what mattered wasn’t the number. It was that I’d kept going through stretches when simply knowing that readers existed was what got me through. The life preserver that saves you is necessarily thrown by another. External validation isn’t ideal, but sometimes it’s what keeps you in the boat.

Writing uphill
7 for Sunday — December 2024

Downhill writing is what you want to say; uphill writing is what you need to say — the thing you’re afraid of, the thing you think nobody wants to hear. The best writing is almost always uphill. The discomfort is usually the sign you’re onto something real.

When a Podcast Is Finished
Podtalk Field Note — with Alasdair Plambeck

Closing on the hardest part: knowing when to stop. Not failed, not abandoned — finished. Alasdair ended his podcast after four-and-a-half years because the work was complete. The skill isn’t just keeping going; it’s also recognizing when keeping going has quietly become a different act than what you set out to do.

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This Isn’t Journaling

Let’s be clear about what we’re talking about here.

This isn’t journaling. Journaling is about processing emotions and experiences. That’s valuable, but it’s not what this is for.

This isn’t “morning pages” or free writing. Those are about getting words flowing without judgment. Again, valuable for what they do, but different purpose.

This isn’t a task management system. You can track tasks if you want, but that’s not the main point.

This is using paper to think better.

It’s externalizing the process of figuring things out so you can actually see what you’re thinking instead of just feeling overwhelmed by it.

When you keep everything in your head, you’re constantly using mental energy just to remember what you’re supposed to be doing. You can’t see patterns. You can’t build on previous thoughts—you just repeat them.

The notebook becomes a record of your thinking that you can reference, build on, and learn from.

That’s what makes it useful. Not the paper. Not the pen. The externalization.

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This is part of a series about Hand-Write. Think Better.—a method for people who feel overwhelmed to start simply writing more on paper. Get the book →


Persistence with Tim Winders

What does redefining success look like after you’ve lost everything?

Podcasting becomes a vehicle for self-discovery, long-form connection, and client engagement.

I’ve talked to a lot of podcasters. I’m able to talk to people for roughly 60 minutes without any interruption. It nourishes my soul, and I love it. That’s the real foundation.

~ Tim Winders (19:18)

This conversation explores the origin and evolution of the long-running podcast, Seek. Go. Create., and its relationship to Tim Winder’s personal and professional journey. Tim describes how the podcast began as a response to a client’s needs, but quickly became a spiritually driven endeavor. He was encouraged to share personal stories, including difficult experiences like financial collapse and homelessness. Over time, the show developed into a platform that not only supports a coaching business but also nourishes a desire for deep, uninterrupted conversations.

This conversation also touches on the structure and process behind maintaining consistency over hundreds of episodes, the relationship between control and creativity, and the integration of podcasting with writing and coaching work. Tim explains how the podcast serves as both an outlet and a tool for building content across platforms like YouTube and LinkedIn. There’s a recurring theme of redefining success, with reflections on audience size, personal growth, and the impact of letting go of expectations.

(more…)

Technology of societies

As I’ve written before, sometimes I find something that just makes me raise my eyebrows… and back away slowly… and, okay, lots more people should actually see this. Thus I present to you everything you never even thought to wonder about how the Athenians process-ified Democracy.

The Athenians had to keep those bodies flowing smoothly, then, and that was largely a matter of keeping track of who belonged where and when. They also had to maintain a smooth and dependable flow of the information generated by those bodies — the votes, the decrees, the endless speechifying. They had, in short, to do a lot of stuff that modern information technology would have helped them tremendously to do, and nonetheless they managed pretty well, with the materials at hand, to build the tools they needed to make their system work.

Those tools — the info tech of ancient Athenian democracy — are the subject of the following Notes. I present them now without further ado.

~ Julian Dibbell from, Info Tech of Ancient Democracy

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I’m at a loss for words here. o_O

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What systems are in place?

Finish this sentence: I am the sort of person who…

Here’s a different way to look at it, one that we can broaden into an insight about adult decisions about where to work, where to live, who to hang out with. There are two parts:

Are the people this place attracts the sort of people I want to spend time with and become more like?

Is the system that is in place here one that pushes and cajoles and processes people to become more like the kind of person I’d like to be?

~ Seth Godin from, On choosing a college

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Not everything needs to be planned out, pre-visualized, processified, done-defined, and OODA looped. However, having mastered those things, it is massively empowering when things go sideways, off the rails, and get set back. Having mastered those things, I know I can always begin anew a slow upward spiral.

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