On the Grind.

Let's talk about the grind.

Every industry has its glamorous moments - those projects or milestones that keep us energized, driven towards our purpose, and focused. Such a great feeling!

But we've all experienced those times where it's all just... a grind.

The work piles up. It's monotonous, repetitive, and feels more like a punishment than a passion. Or we're bored, tired, distracted, sick... Any of myriad reasons draining away that joy and sense of purpose.

So, what should we do? It's tempting to check out. Bare minimum. Low-effort, low-reward mindset. And I've been there plenty of times. Re-framing those times is a challenge, so here I offer a different perspective:

Colloquially the "grind" has come to mean toil, an erosion of energy and a mindless slog through meaningless repetition, all for an often-low return.

Etymologically, “the grind” branches from the phrase "nose to the grindstone." This isn't much more encouraging, evoking images of unpleasant, abrasive tasks that wear us down, scraping off little pieces of our resolve until we’re worn out.

But what if we reframe it as the act of sharpening our tools, of restoring an edge to our best work? How can we reimagine the grind as a honing, a re-focusing of our energies on things that improve our skills and reignite our purpose?

I’ll share how I managed that: I recently freelanced on a massive rework of online Computer Science courses for Case Western Reserve University. We were tasked with editing, conforming, and updating a combination of PowerPoints, video annotations, and Instructor narration. Sounds like a grind, right? It was.

Shortly after starting the work, my mindset reflected that attitude and my approach to the project did too. I slogged through it. I toiled. And I kinda hated it. It would be disingenuous to pretend I didn't. But as the work progressed, I realized I HAD to reframe my approach to it, lest I go mad from boredom, quit the job, abandon my pursuit of an Instructional Design career, and go live in the woods.

Instead, I resolved to learn from the experience, to challenge my perception of the tasks, and I was able to reframe my attitude towards that grind and celebrate the experience I'd gained from it.

Once I really got into the grind, I suffered a persistent, repetitive mental narrative of "There HAS to be a better way." And there was, I just had to iterate my workflow to find it. I was able to build better processes - templates, automation and macros that all helped speed up my work and lessen the monotony of what at times seemed like a bottomless cache of PowerPoints, nearly-inscrutable instructor annotations and de-synced audio tracks.

I was able to share some of those processes with my team, and see those processes adopted, which was a huge boost back towards feeling like I’d contributed not only to the goals of the contract, but towards the betterment of my team. Once again, I started to feel rewarded for the work, not just the pay.

I also started to analyze the class content itself, planning ways to apply current (and frankly more interesting) ID principles and practices. This lightened my metaphorical load, if not the tangible one. It turned into a refreshing mental exercise to plan out how I'd transform the often-drab lessons into hybrid, engaging microlearning experiences. And the energy of purpose returned. Maybe not as bright and bold as usual, but it returned, nonetheless.

So, I persisted. I put my nose to that grindstone and reframed my approach to the work until I reawakened an intrinsic motivation to do it well, and to take with me the lessons that I could after the project concluded.

I'm not saying it's pretty. I learned that sometimes our work isn't. But it served a good purpose and helped remind me of my own. And maybe this reflection will help others re-discover their own edge, hard-fought and won from the grind.

I hope this helps you re-discover your edge.