Process over Content, Process over Outcome

A few days ago, I started to struggle within myself. I have six publications coming out (hopefully all this year—three by the end of August), and all I could think was, "So what?" The glory and the celebration of having a piece published lasted all but two minutes. One morning, on receiving an acceptance email, I rushed to start writing the next piece. I was frantic, my chest tight, completely panicked. I felt like I was driving myself insane—obsessed. A year ago, had you asked me whether I would be happy with publications, I would have told you that just one would be great.

I've been doing quite a bit of thinking on why this is the case.

I've grown up being obsessed with outcomes. The world we live in is obsessed with outcomes—goals. Achievements. But in getting so caught up in the achievement, and the two minutes—I swear no longer than two minutes—of glory and dopamine, I took little satisfaction or enjoyment, or much consideration, for what it was like for me to be writing the papers. To enjoy the thinking process, the editing, the revising. To watch the story of the piece come together.

I even had the thought, "What's the point in it at all?" And again, instead of answering what the point—the meaning—of it was to me, I started to justify the very real, tangible outcomes that the work would have. The real-world implications. But those didn't help me.

The real question is on enjoying the process over the content.

When I grew up as a violin student, classical music required discipline, dedication, and yes, there was an orientation toward the outcome—the exam. And these things are important for progress. When I moved countries and changed teachers, they were obsessed with the outcomes. However, seldom was I taught to enjoy playing the exercises and scales—to make them beautiful. That they could be beautiful. They were checkbox items. By the time I got to 15, I barely wanted to play anymore at all. I barely wanted to touch the instrument, which had always been a part of me—the instrument that was in massive part my identity. The focus on the outcome had ruined the process of playing anything at all. It became a hated activity, to the point where my body began to rebel. I developed severe tendonitis to the point that I couldn't close my hand, and painfully, with some simultaneous sense of resigned relief, we decided that I would stop music.

Artists who love to paint, paint for the process of painting more than for the piece.

Are you focused on enjoying the present-moment activity, or on a goal?

There are a few things that happen when you're focused on enjoying the process.

• Your attention is drawn to the present moment

• The process is something you value

• In enjoying the process, you are taking a committed action towards what you value

However, enjoying the process does not make the process an easy one. Many of the most worthwhile things require a good deal of time, frustration, failure, and grit. Yet, there's something in it that makes the process worthwhile—something that changes who we are as it unfolds. If we believe in the process, we are more likely to stick around, and for far longer. You're not chasing short-lived hits of pleasure, but fulfillment in the longterm.

What am I Becoming in the process or outcome?

When I am focused on the outcome, I rush, I become frustrated, I start to hate the activity, and the joy of it is short-lived. I become unhappy quickly thereafter, and I am chasing the next metric. Or I exhaust myself thinking of the effort to get them, and then fall completely out of any motivation at all.

When I am in the process and valuing being in the process, I am changing myself in a very different way. Athletes understand this. Runners, cyclists, CrossFitters. The activity itself is fulfilling. It's not easy, it hurts, it's not always fun, but the process of arriving, working, is meaningful. There is a belief that during the process, something in us and about us changes, just by showing up consistently. When you arrive in the gym or a sport for the outcome only, you are likely to be demotivated quickly and drop out, because change happens over time. It happens consistently. And it happens in such tiny increments that you cannot see it day to day.

So I started to think: where am I focused on the outcomes, and what do I value in the processes of achieving those outcomes?

Outcome: "Completing" a piece of music

The process is hard-won, painstaking practice of a few notes by just a few notes. So what is there to value in the process? The courage and grit of persistence—but then, when it starts to come together, the joy of the freedom of movement, of making something of beauty, which moves, it feels. And it's something that is in me. It cannot be taken away from me. Through the process, the piece has become a part of me. And to be able to play it is liberating.

Outcome: Publishing academic papers

There are many layers to the reasoning behind this, but the word respect comes to mind. But there is a difference between respect as wanted from others, versus self-respect. To write papers in living for the views, clout, and respect of others is not a joyous procedure; it is just procedure. Because it is never in itself enough. That is not to say that it is not respectable or meritable of credit. But what is the process to me? This is the difference between living for the outcome—which is often involved in living for other people—instead of living for me. But the only person who can live in the present for me, is me. The process of writing requires persistence. It requires continuous skill development—the skillfulness of synthesising information, of putting pieces of a puzzle together until it makes a story. The process is a process of thinking. The knowledge of that story becomes a part of who I am, and the story that I have told could only be told by me, because someone else would have put together the information differently. It's not that it matters to others, although this is an important part of the work, but I value who I am becoming in the process of writing the work. I am becoming the keeper and storyteller of that knowledge.

Getting into a flow-state

Flow-states are a well-studied phenomenon in positive psychology, and have a good deal of neuroscientific backing. In a flow state, you are "in the zone," focused, engaged, and fully present in the task at hand. You get so focused, that time seems to disappear, everything but the task disappears. But when we are slowly focused on the outcome instead of the actual process of performing the task, this state becomes harder to achieve.

Flow is all about the present-moment awareness, and there's a few things that happen in your brain:

1. Focused attention: The prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for functions like planning and decision-making, tends to quiet down during flow state. This aids in the feeling of being fully absorbed in an activity and not being distracted by unrelated thoughts.

2. Decreased sense of self: The dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, associated with self-awareness and self-referential thinking, also shows reduced activity during flow, leading to a diminished sense of self-consciousness that allows individuals to lose themselves in the activity.

3. Increased reward system activation: Dopamine is released during a flow state, which conjures feelings of pleasure and positive reinforcement that individuals experience while in flow.

4. Enhanced creativity and pattern recognition: The brain's default mode network (DMN), which is active when the mind is wandering or daydreaming, tends to deactivate during flow. This allows for increased focus and cognitive processing, often leading to enhanced creativity and the ability to recognize patterns.

5. Reduction in negative emotions: The amygdala, which plays a key role in processing emotions and fear responses, becomes less active during flow. This contributes to the feeling of being calm and free from negative emotions.‍

6. Enhanced learning and memory: Neuroplasticity, the brain's ability to reorganize itself, is often heightened during flow. This means that the brain is more receptive to learning and forming new connections, which can lead to improved skill acquisition and memory formation.

Intrinsic vs Extrinsic Motivation

When we are doing things for the value and the process, we are doing them with an intrinsic motivation, for the sake of the values that they fulfill. We are living for what matters to us, rather than living for the outcomes and validation of other people.

When we experience instrinsic motivation we do it for the process of the activity itself, rather than the outcome goal. Goals are achieved along the way, but they are happy byproducts of the process.

Values Cards: Getting an idea for what I value (or what you value)

ACT values cards can help set the scene for what a value is. Values are not outcomes—they can never be achieved—but you can live and behave in values-aligned ways. It's like travelling with the heading "west." You're never going to get there—it is impossible to ever get "west." West is just a direction; it is the way you are going in the journey. Of course, you will stop at landmarks and islands along the way, but the landmarks and islands are not the way.

If you're going through the cards and something jumps out at you, I'd encourage you to please read the definitions, because they may not be what you think they are. Beauty, for example, is "to appreciate, create, nurture, or cultivate beauty in myself, others, the environment," and is not as superficial as what may initially come to mind.

Values are certainly not limited to what is on these cards, but they can give an idea of what it is like to pick something process-oriented over something which is achievable.