Life… and other hacks

  • Zara Shams

short·cut | \ ˈshȯrt-ˌkət \ | Merriam-Webster 1 a route more direct than the one ordinarily taken 2 a method or means of doing something more directly and quickly than and often not so thoroughly as by ordinary procedure 3 a key or combination of keys on a computer keyboard programmed to perform a specific function when pressed — called also hot key

Fun fact about me: if there’s a life hack, a writing hack, any sort of hack – I’ll be the first to do it. Even during the most painfully perfectionistic periods of my life, I have always been undeniably lazy. Or – I don’t know if lazy is the right word. I enjoy hard work, and getting stuck in with projects, but the idea of inefficiency terrifies me. Not exactly the most useful mindset for creative work, right?

I’ve come to realise that creativity requires a certain amount of blind faith. You don’t necessarily have to believe that your current project will be good, or even good enough; but it helps to believe that it could be, or at least the next one might be. And faith is a muscle that needs to be stretched and trained. Especially these days.

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on the type of work I’m doing), I love shortcuts. All kinds of shortcuts, really, but specifically shortcuts that involve technology. Maybe it’s because I still have that big kid mentality in me, and I genuinely believe technology is magical. Of course magic can be used for good or bad. I just never thought I’d be the one who gets to decide, every day, minute by minute. Especially when it’s so shiny and pretty, and always within reach.

Part of the problem here is the very purpose of technology. It’s designed to sell me something. On principle, I don't buy stuff I see in ads. But I know that by watching an ad, even for a second, I am extracting money from some brand’s account and plunging it into Smaug’s lair. And the platform does their very best to make the app irresistible, by giving us constant hits of dopamine. Clickbait headline? Dopamine. Pretty colours? Dopamine. Good music? A backing track for your dopamine rush. Sometimes the creators even pop up a few years later with a book about how to manage your time and avoid their apps and of course it’s a sellout. (And I read it, even though it wigs me out that they can make money by providing both the problem and the solution).


The thing about shortcuts is that eventually I start to take them for granted. To clarify, I mean both shortcuts in general and hot keys, those beautifully-named computer-specific shortcuts. Both should make my life easier. Right?

Do I want to check in on someone? Sure, shoot them a text and let autocorrect turn it into something legible. Do I want to read a new book? If I buy it within 3 hours it will arrive tomorrow. (Let’s not go crazy, same-day delivery doesn't happen out here in the sticks). In my life, these are the built-in shortcuts.

Then there are the shortcuts I create for myself. There was a time when I did a lot of proof-reading work for friends. This happens most frequently during university and/or job applications. I created my own shortcut to insert comments into a Word document. It was beautiful. I never told anyone about it because it’s hard to explain how something so small can be so life-changing. It’s a miracle I even figured out how to create a custom shortcut. It looked like this ⌘⇧/.
And if I need a fifteen minute timer?
Hey Siri, set a fifteen minute timer. Fifteen minutes and counting.
I need a reminder on the morning of my cat’s vet appointment?
Hey Siri, set a reminder for Friday morning to take Tabby to the vet. Reminder is set for Friday: Take TAXI to the vet.
Ok, so it’s not perfect. But it works, most of the time. And it saves hours of frustrating screen-jabbing when you add it all up. (Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it saves five minutes a year. But the feeling is still worth it – and that’s what counts, right?)


These kinds of shortcuts work so well in my current job. I work at a sustainable tech start up, and it definitely helps to have a cursory (though even that seems generous) understanding of the wonders of technology; namely, what can and can’t be done. It helps me work efficiently, rather than having to sacrifice speed for quality. And, if you read my previous post, you know I’m a sucker for checking my way through a checklist.
Then comes Writing Wednesday. I have learned, on a conscious if not subconscious level, that creativity does not kowtow to the checklist. But I'm still coming to terms with the fact that there aren’t any shortcuts. If you’re anything like me, you might be thinking – why should I need a shortcut? Isn’t this something I want to do? A very valid question.

I blame it on the dopamine. Partly because I enjoy scapegoating my hormones in general, but mostly because I get this itchy feeling when I’m writing or reading or doing anything without a screen. It’s the unscratchable itch. I know scrolling on my phone will only relieve it for a second, and then I’ll want more. More bright candy-coloured pictures and buttons for days. Two hours later, I’m finishing the third episode of Physical on Apple TV and realising I’ve morphed from a creator into a consumer again.

The hardest thing for me is that there are so many nuances. I love my phone because it connects me to my parents, who live in a different country. I love speaking to them, and I never want to miss their calls. I love engaging with people in my Poetry Prompt community on social media, so even though I have notifications off I check my accounts frequently. My thumb finds the app so quickly. Of course, I have tried so-called hacks to counteract these shortcuts. I move my phone to the other side of the room, out of reach. I make the screen black-and-white so the dopamine doesn’t hit so hard. My Instagram app is in a folder within a folder and out of view. Eventually, it always gets me.


If I were wiser, I would recognise that this is where faith comes in. Even if I’m not getting that dopamine hit in that moment, I have to believe I’ll feel good about having done my work. Maybe not in this moment, or today. Maybe not about one story in particular, but about the process of writing and the constant, silent growth that happens unnoticed in the background.But this is not that kind of post. I am not yet wise. I am learning, sure, and definitely hopeful. I am also still in the mindset where I’m more likely to strategise, to think about life hacks and shortcuts. But I’m young and there is still time.