Alright, alright, settle down. A few of you have been pinging me about that “Simon Rosenthal” technique I vaguely mentioned the other week. You want the nitty-gritty, my experience, the whole shebang. Well, pull up a chair, ’cause I’m ready to share my little adventure with whatever that was supposed to be.
So, I stumbled across this “Simon Rosenthal” approach – some folks were buzzing about it online, you know how it is. Pitched as this amazing way to bust through creative ruts. The core idea, from what I gathered, sounded pretty straightforward: you lock yourself away for exactly, and I mean exactly, 72 minutes. No distractions – phone off, internet disconnected, just you and your work. And in that time, you just pour it all out. Create, create, create. No judging, no second-guessing. Sounds almost too good to be true, eh? That’s what I figured, but hey, I’m willing to try most things once.
My Big “Simon Rosenthal” Experiment
I decided to give this a real shot. Cleared out a morning last month. Made a big show of it to the family – “Dad’s entering the Rosenthal Vortex!” – that sort of thing. Set myself up in the study, timer ready, fresh notepad. The plan? To finally outline that tricky project I’d been putting off. Seventy-two minutes of pure, unadulterated productivity. That was the dream.
And you know what? For the first ten, maybe fifteen minutes, it wasn’t half bad. Ideas were flowing, pen was moving. I thought, “Hey, maybe there’s something to this Simon guy after all!” But then, things started to go sideways. That 72-minute countdown looming over me started to feel less like a helpful boundary and more like a ticking time bomb. My brain, instead of staying laser-focused like those online testimonials promised, began to rebel. Started thinking about lunch. Wondered if I’d remembered to pay that bill. Listened to a bird outside the window for what felt like an eternity.
The whole “no judgment” thing? A complete joke. Every sentence I jotted down, I was already picking apart in my head. And “non-stop creation”? My hand started to ache, and frankly, my well of ideas ran dry pretty quick. I reckon I spent a good chunk of that last half hour just staring blankly at the page, feeling more stressed than inspired. When that timer finally buzzed, I had a page of disconnected thoughts, a mild headache, and a distinct feeling of being duped. “Revolutionary,” they called it. I called it a waste of a perfectly good morning.
It’s like so many of these trendy techniques, isn’t it? They sound fantastic when some guru is preaching about them, or when you read a slick blog post. But the reality of actually doing the work, especially creative work, is just… messy. It doesn’t always fit into these neat little prescribed boxes with fancy names. Who even is this Simon Rosenthal, anyway? Did he actually do this, or is it just some name someone pulled out of a hat to make it sound credible? Probably the latter, if you ask me.
This whole experience really took me back to when I tried that “Focused Burst” method a few years ago. You know the one – work like a maniac for 20 minutes, then a 5-minute break, repeat. The app had all these encouraging chimes and progress bars. Seemed logical. For about two days, I was all in. Then I realized I was spending more energy watching the clock and transitioning between “work” and “break” than actually getting anything substantial done. My focus was shot to pieces. I’d just get into a good rhythm, and BEEP! Time for a break I didn’t even want. Then, trying to ramp back up after five minutes of forced relaxation? Forget about it.
So, this “Simon Rosenthal” practice? Yeah, I gave it a go. I did the experiment. And the results are in: it’s a pass from me. Maybe it’s a game-changer for some folks out there. Maybe their brains are wired differently. Or maybe they’re just more easily convinced. Me? I’m sticking to my own slightly chaotic, occasionally frustrating, but ultimately more productive way of muddling through. It might not have a catchy name, and it certainly wouldn’t sell any books, but it gets the job done. Eventually. You just gotta figure out what actually clicks for you, not what some trend says should.