Dear Writing Friends:
A few years ago when my daughter went off to elementary school, giving me eight hours of uninterrupted time five days a week, I thought I was in heaven. Finally, a quiet house with plenty of free hours to work on my book, and maybe even some extra time to work on other projects—short stories I’d written long ago that needed editing, essays that had been running through my mind for years. Of course I would need time to eat, bathe, exercise, see the dentist, and get my hair cut. So really, when you got down to it, most days I had about four hours to actually work. And then there was the matter of structure. When would I write? Shouldn’t I meditate first to set the tone for the day? If I went to the dentist first thing in the morning, how would I transition back to my studio? And what about friends? Wasn’t it important to nurture my relationships? And so on. It’s a great privilege to make your own days, but it’s also a pain in the ass.
Weekday mornings unfold like this: If I’m lucky I wake at 6:30 to the sound of my alarm. Most days, however, I’m jolted awake by the sound of my daughter whining, “Mommy, Mommy, Mooooooommmmmmmy.” At which point I haul myself downstairs and flop face down on her bed until she requests nourishment. The minute my feet hit the floor, however, the dogs start barking to go out. I open the back door for them and go to the kitchen. But before I can open the refrigerator, they’re back and barking for food. To reduce the noise level, I feed them first and then get my daughter’s breakfast, which I bring to her in bed along with her homework (yes, I let my daughter do her homework in bed in the morning). I make her lunch, pack her snacks, fill her water bottle, go back to retrieve her homework, put that in the backpack, and then drag Shira from the bed to get dressed. Most days I pick out her outfits and bring her her toothbrush to get her out the door on time. I have a lot at stake in getting her out the door on time. The earlier she gets out, the more time I have to write. I’m exhausted by the time she leaves.
This is what the next part of my day looks like: I walk Shira to the door, kiss her good-bye, and send her off to school with Steve, closing and locking the door behind me. If I haven’t eaten, I prepare something quickly, usually a smoothie, because liquid meals save time. And then, because I am so, so, so tired, I make a cup of tea and go to my studio to read. I’m a writer, so I get to read. Plus, it feels completely decadent, especially if I bypass the studio and take the tea and the book back to bed. My next order of business is stretching, because I’m getting creakier with age, and then sitting. I usually give myself a time limit on all this and tell myself I can do whatever I want as long as I’m writing by 9:30.
Here is where I get into trouble: Sometimes . . . Okay, most days I bypass the book and sit down in front my computer to check my e-mail. I subscribe to MediaBistro’s morning news feed and I justify taking time to read it because it’s work-related. Then I go back to e-mail, which almost inevitably leads me to Facebook, because I can’t resist seeing the comments to my status updates on the page itself. Plus you can see how many people gives you the thumbs up and thus start your day with a little ego boost. While I’m there, of course I have to hit “Home” and see what all my friends are up to. I like to be a generous participant in the social networking world, so I post some links to my homepage, make some comments, and go back to check my profile. And then I check my e-mail again. It’s now 9:00. Needless to say, I usually get to work after my appointed time. I might be only fifteen minutes late, but I have a lot of guilt and shame about it. I know I’ve been wasting time—my time.
A few weeks ago I began seeing a new life coach, Sonya Davis, owner of Business the Feminine Way, with the intention of connecting the dots of my writing life. To my horror, we began with my schedule.
“My sense is that you need more structure,” Sonya told me. “I want you to go home and block out the entire summer on iCalendar and color code it.” We were sitting at her desk and she swiveled her computer around to show me hers: lovely blocks of time rendered in pink, blue, purple, red, and green boxes.
“Sure,” I said, feigning cheerfulness. “That sounds great.” Although truthfully, the thought of sitting down in front of my computer and carving out my time into little boxes felt like going to prison. Wasn’t this why I had jumped off the tenure track, opted out of an office job? I wanted my freedom. I wanted long, unstructured days to write, to walk at Town Lake, and to sit in a coffee shop and dream. Of course I wasn’t getting that much done staring out the window at Starbucks. Plus I had paid for the session, which made me think I should at least try it.
That night, after Shira went to bed, I pulled out my computer and began. It took me an hour to plot my first week, in part because I didn’t know you could copy blocks of time the same way you can copy words and paragraphs in Microsoft Word. Also, I couldn’t decide how much time I should give to each activity. I spent a lot of time editing my boxes, giving myself fifteen minutes more in one place and then taking it from another. I also had to figure in transportation time. It was not a whole lot of fun. But as I was color-coding my activities, I remembered seeing in Sonya’s calendar a few blocks of time marked, “flow/receptivity.” I wasn’t sure what that meant to Sonya, but I had an idea of what an hour of flow time might look like for me: reading something inspiring, writing practice, meditation, a walk if I needed it. I looked at my week and blocked out flow time every morning in little pink boxes. Some days I gave myself an hour. Twice a week, I gave myself two hours. And I scheduled my writing time directly afterwards.
On the first day of my new schedule I sent Shira off to school and took my tea to my studio. It was 7:50 and my “flow time” began at 8:00, enough time to check my e-mail. I was about to get on Facebook, when I stopped myself. I had reserved time to do the things that soothed my spirit and would feed my writing. I got off the computer, put on my tennis shoes, and went for a walk. It was Monday morning and I hadn’t had much time for exercise over the weekend. Plus, while the afternoons are heating up here, the mornings are still cool. I wanted to take advantage of the fresh air. I wandered through my neighborhood noticing the pink oleander trees that bloomed since I last got out and the white buds on the magnolias. As I turned the corner from Shoal Creek to Great Oaks Trail, which as you would expect is lined with live oaks, the rest of my day unfolded in my mind. I had two work periods on my calendar. I would fill one with my to-do list – forms that needed to filled out, essays I wanted to submit – and the other with book work. I went home, stretched, sat meditation, and at 10:00 I sat down at my desk and got to it.
When I met with Sonya later that day, I told her about my success. Her blue eyes sparkled. “When you honor your commitments to yourself,” she said, “your life blooms.”
It seems so elementary, the line drawn in the proverbial sand, etched on the computer screen. A simple boundary. It’s easy to waste time plugged into the Internet, but it draws energy away from my inner life, from the stillness that feeds my writing. It’s not that I never check my e-mail anymore or get caught on Facebook. But when the day begins and I see that I’ve set aside time for myself, I honor it. It remains to be seen how it will affect my writing. For now the boost in self-esteem is enough.
This month’s quotation:
A dishonest yes is a no to yourself.
Byron Katie, Question Your Thinking, Change the World.
Writing Topic:
Weekday mornings unfold like this
I wish you all a wonderful summer. In Process will take a break until Labor Day, when I will announce my new
business. I’m very excited to be offering individual and group coaching this
fall as well as other services that you’ll be able to read about on my new
website. I’d love to hear from you about your needs as writers and how I might
be able to assist. And don’t forget to send me your publication announcements
and other achievements so I can post them to our growing community.
My best to each of you.
Saundra
Laura Kooris has had a quite a month. Her article, "Jim
Henry, Texas Oil Baron," was published in Pressing Times, a
newsletter by the Olive Oil Source. You can see it online at http://www.oliveoilsource.com/article/jim-henry-texas-oil-baron.
Laura’s poem, "The Way Away," was published in the 2010 volume of di-verse-city, and she received two honorable mentions from the
Austin Poetry Society Awards. Lastly, her poem, "Ballast," was picked
up for the Melbourne, Australia magazine, Frame Lines.
And in case I haven’t bombarded you
with the announcement already, babble.com
published my piece, “How to Entertain Your Child While Lying Down,” last week.
Check it out here: http://tinyurl.com/2abgkzb.