My Stumble with the Eddie Bromberg Way
You know, sometimes you just get tired of all the fancy apps and complex systems, right? That’s where I was a few months back. My digital to-do lists were a mess, notifications were flying everywhere, and I felt like I was spending more time managing the tools than actually getting stuff done. It was pure chaos. I was looking for something, anything, simpler.
Then, during one of my late-night internet rabbit-hole dives, I came across this name: Eddie Bromberg. Not a household name, not by a long shot. It was buried in some old forum, a comment really, about someone who supposedly had this ultra-minimalist way of organizing his work. No software, no cloud, just pure old-school methods. I was intrigued, mostly because it sounded so different from everything else out there.
What I Gathered About This “Bromberg Method”
From what I could piece together – because there wasn’t a manual or a website, just snippets of anecdotes – this Eddie Bromberg fella, supposedly an architect or an engineer from way back, had a system. It involved:
- A single, large, unlined sketchbook.
- Different colored pens, but only three. Red for urgent, blue for general tasks, and black for notes or ideas.
- A very specific way of drawing boxes and arrows to connect tasks, almost like a personal, hand-drawn flowchart for his day or week.
- No erasing. Mistakes were just crossed out, and you moved on. Part of the “process,” they said.
It sounded wonderfully archaic, almost therapeutic. So, I thought, why not? I had nothing to lose except maybe a few bucks on a sketchbook and some pens.
Giving it a Go: My Eddie Bromberg Experiment
So, I went out and bought a nice, big sketchbook, the kind with thick paper, and a pack of those classic ballpoint pens in red, blue, and black. Felt a bit like going back to school.
The first day, I tried to map out my tasks. It was awkward. My boxes were lopsided, my handwriting looked worse than usual, and I kept wanting to reach for “undo.” The “no erasing” rule was tough. My first page looked like a battlefield. But I stuck with it. I tried to use blue for my regular work items, red for a couple of deadlines, and black for random thoughts that popped up.
For about a week, I diligently used the “Bromberg method.” I’d start my day by drawing out my tasks, connecting them with arrows if they were dependent on each other. I’d carry this sketchbook everywhere. It was… noticeable. My colleagues definitely gave me some funny looks when I pulled out this giant book in meetings instead of my laptop.
So, How Did It Pan Out?
Well, it wasn’t a magic bullet. Shocker, I know.
The good parts? I definitely felt more intentional about what I was writing down. There’s something about physical writing that makes you think a bit more. And not having a million notifications was a relief. The visual overview, once I got a bit neater, was kind of helpful for seeing the connections between tasks. And, honestly, not being able to erase forced me to accept imperfections and just keep moving, which was an interesting lesson in itself.
The not-so-good parts? It was slow. Really slow. And not very flexible. If a new urgent thing came up, I’d have to squeeze it in, and the page would start looking chaotic again. Sharing my “plan” with anyone was impossible unless I physically showed them the book. And searching for old notes? Forget about it. It was purely an “in the moment” kind of tool.
After about two weeks, I found myself drifting back to a hybrid system. I kept the sketchbook for initial brainstorming and for very focused, deep work sessions where I wanted to disconnect. But for day-to-day task management and collaboration, digital tools just made more sense for my line of work.
This whole Eddie Bromberg thing reminded me of this one time, years ago, when I was working for this small startup. The founder was obsessed with “originality” to the point of absurdity. He insisted we build every single internal tool from scratch. Our own chat system, our own project manager, even our own version of a document editor. He said it would be “perfectly tailored to our needs.” What a disaster. We spent more time debugging our own buggy tools than doing actual client work. Months wasted. Eventually, we just started using off-the-shelf stuff on the sly just to get projects out the door. He never found out, or maybe he did and just didn’t want to admit his grand vision was a bit… impractical for a team of five. Trying the Bromberg method felt a bit like that – a noble idea in theory, but the practicalities just didn’t quite line up with the reality of my workflow. Still, it was a fun little detour from the usual grind.
