There are a lot of ways for you to lose focus these days. I read sad stories about people wasting hours on Twitter and Facebook in the name of staying connected. Others stop every few minutes to check their feeds for the latest-and-greatest news. We're slowly realizing our multitasking, attention-drained ways are not great for us. There are even applications geared toward helping you focus. You can use an /etc/hosts hack to block sites you frequent, something I've used in the past. But I'd like to take a few minutes to tell you about two surefire ways to become more productive both at work and home.

Self-Control

First up is self-control. Self-control doesn't get much airtime these days. It ranks right up there with personal responsibility and doing the right thing. We tend not to like these terms because they place emphasis on our ability, and oftentimes we fail. Self-control in getting things done is convincing yourself to not look for distractions when you reach a tough spot. Push through those difficult spots and finish victoriously.

Focus

Focus is another key ingredient for productivity. It's self-control's close relative. What good is focus if it's being used on the wrong thing, or worse, some form of time-waster? Focus means turning off the distractions, hopefully without the aid of a tool. It means employing self-control. It's the tunnel vision needed for getting things done, on-time with excellence.

Knocking out a stringent todo list is a piece of cake when wielding these two tools. The best part is they're free, but they're not cheap. We are creatures of habit, and breaking a habit is hard to do. Ask anyone who's ever tried to quit smoking—my uncle is on his fifth try. Maybe you're used to browsing the internet on the clock, or maybe worse. Maybe you've convinced yourself it's normal. You may need some sort of hack in place to rewire your brain. I did. Ultimately it's on you. You've got to want to be productive. You've got to want to create. It will start when you see the joys of accomplishing something rather than absorbing others' creations.

It's Wednesday afternoon, and you're headed to your team's weekly brainstorming session. You're equipped with a plethora of ideas, and these ideas aren't cheap. You spent at least two weeks dwelling on them, trimming the fat, making sure they're perfect. You enter the conference room early, but you're not the only one brimming with ideas and chutzpah.

The Anchor gets the ball rolling, discussing the current state of The Project. But you're not interested in the current state. You've got some game-changing ideas that are winners, the kind of ideas where God and everyone in the room will bow down and worship your ingenuity.

The brainstorming sessions are orderly, going around the room starting on The Anchor's right. That's why you chose to sit on her left. You want to be last because you have the best idea, but guess what… You're probably wrong.

"You're probably wrong," is the number one tool I walk into any meeting with. It's not about self-abasement, it's about humility. Walking into a meeting with the cocksure attitude of, "my ideas are the best," is a surefire way to ignore what everyone else has to offer because you've thought through their idea, apparently, and know it's flawed. The truth is the odds are against you. Very few ideas reach The Best Idea status and people rarely recognize them when they are The Best Idea—remember when Twitter first came out? Few people understood its importance.

So, walk into your next meeting equipped with, "I'm probably wrong." It will allow you to table your idea and focus on what everyone else has to offer. Who knows, you may learn something new.

Of course, I'm probably wrong.

I spend a lot of time pondering how to live a meaningful life, and lately I've been thinking about life at work.

Work is a major portion of our lives, at least for most of us, and I've been mulling over what it means to be a professional. The definition most of us are probably familiar with is a professional is someone who gets paid to perform a certain task, duty, trade, or skill. The fourth edition of the American Heritage Dictionary defines a professional as, “One who earns a living in a given or implied occupation; a skilled practitioner; an expert.” That's a pretty good definition, but I have one major problem with it: it doesn't talk about character.

Robert Sutton's The No Asshole Rule is a fantastic book about dealing with assholes in the workplace. It covers how to get along with these rude coworkers, prevent their existence in your company, and how to ensure you don't become the asshole. The character of a professional is the overarching theme. It's something we don't talk about enough. We honor things like problem solving skills, the ability to work quickly, having original ideas, etc. If they're not an asshole, well, that's just a bonus.

Character stems into more areas than just how abrasive you are, which is what The No Asshole Rule focuses on. It's more than just your moral and ethical strength. It's more than being the nice person at work. It's a cocktail of all these things and more. It's about living a life you're not ashamed to call yours. It's about following through and keeping your word. It's about being passionate and critical—the constructive kind, not the negative kind—while still being sensitive to others. It's about being virtuous and courageous. I could continue, but I think you get the idea. The bottom line is this: your paycheck doesn't make you a professional, your character does.