When it comes to my own productivity, few techniques have helped me as much as time blocking. Earlier this year, I shared some thoughts on this method, praising its ability to slice through the cacophony of daily tasks and distractions. However, in the months since and, as the post-holiday workload surged, I think it is worth a revisit to this topic.

The essence of time blocking, for those unfamiliar, lies in its simplicity: allocating specific blocks of time to individual tasks or types of work. This approach promises a sanctuary of focus in our otherwise fragmented workdays. Yet, as I’ve recently discovered, its effectiveness hinges on a commitment that is as unwavering as it is reflective.

The first, and perhaps most crucial lesson I’ve learned, is the importance of persistence. There was a period when I believed I could afford to abandon this method. I convinced myself that the act of planning was too cumbersome. This was a mistake - a false economy. The time I thought I was saving by skipping the setup of my time blocks was lost manifold in the ensuing disarray.

Transitioning from paper to digital was another experiment in my journey. On paper (pun intended), integrating time blocking into my Emacs setup seemed like a logical step forward. The reality, however, was starkly different. Despite the allure of digital efficiency, I found myself yearning for the tangibility of a double-page spread for each day. There’s an inherent flexibility and immediacy in physical planning that digital tools, at least in my case, failed to replicate. This isn’t to say digital tools are ineffective; rather, their utility might be contingent on one’s entire workflow being housed within them — a luxury not afforded to me as a corporate user tethered to the (un)holy Trinity of Outlook, PowerPoint, and Word.

This does however leave a gap between digital task collection, housed in my Emacs and Outlook and the physical notepads I use daily. Time will be needed to work this out and determine the best way forward.

In response to these challenges, I’m introducing an Eisenhower matrix into my time blocking regimen. The past quarter has seen an unprecedented demand on my time, necessitating a more nuanced approach to prioritization. The matrix — categorising tasks by their urgency and importance — promises a framework to not just manage but optimize my focus. It’s about distinguishing between what demands immediate attention and what can be delegated or deferred, ensuring that my efforts align with the team’s long-term objectives rather than being hijacked by the tyranny of the urgent.

As I refine my approach to time blocking, it’s clear that this journey is as much about understanding the nuances of productivity as it is about self-reflection. What works splendidly for one may falter for another; the key lies in adapting these principles to your own unique circumstances and workflows. Time blocking, with all its potential for fostering discipline and focus, is not a panacea but a tool—one that requires patience, adaptation, and a willingness to learn from missteps.

In embracing this method, we embark on a path not just toward greater productivity but toward a deeper understanding of how we work best. And in this continuous process of adjustment and learning, perhaps we find not just efficiency but a greater sense of purpose and fulfillment in our daily endeavours.