On permission and procrastination
A poem + musings from my chilly home retreat
Our central heating and hot water has been down this week, so my makeshift stay-at-home writing retreat was more Bognor than Bali. But I’ve managed to stay warm enough, when I haven’t been fighting my kids for our household’s one portable heater. [And will do my best not to hug the engineer when he (finally) appears to restore the warmth.]
When I blocked this time out in my diary some months ago, I considered booking an Airbnb, but decided against it. I regret that decision now, and not only because of the temperature. Travelling for paid work, as I am next month, is a no brainer. But taking a few days alone, away from home, as a structure to support me channel my energy elsewhere, right now, feels like an unattainable luxury. Downright unreasonable even.
There is no answer or inspired way forward yet. I am sitting with my frustration, digging into it, and getting curious about what might be possible next time.
Writing week This week I had no meetings This week I had no calls I blocked it out some time ago, Took some time to pause I have a book I want to write, But since January One, I've barely done two thousand words 'cause I've been on the run From the police? An angry ex? It's far more dull, it's true My to-do list has been chasing me (plus I've felt a little blue) The book will never write itself But every day it seems There's too little time to sit and think Too many other things To tick off the list, to just get done I wonder if it's true That I'm doing what is easy first like writing this to you? I think that's it - it has to be I must dive in and write This poem will have to be enough (Though the rhyme's a little shite) The words are flowing fast now Six thou' last time I checked It seems focusing on just one thing Released the bottleneck So this week I hope you will forgive The fact this note is brief But keeping it this short and sweet Is quite frankly, a relief.
A stance that helps me create: Clear focus + flexibility
When I’m creating anything (business-related content, new coaching offerings, workshop design, working on my book, writing these missives) I block out time ahead to work on it. Sometimes an hour. Other times longer. If I don’t do that, it doesn’t happen.
During those blocks I don’t look at email or social media. My phone stays on silent, face down.
Once I begin working on something I care about, with no distractions, even if I don’t feel like it initially, my state usually shifts into one of enjoyable, productive, flow.
That is the clear focus part.
Now for the flexibility…
At the end of that block of time, sometimes I want to keep going for longer. If my schedule allows, I follow the energy and continue. If the next thing I’d planned to do is not urgent, I reschedule it. This is partly explains why my house is untidy. I consider picking my clothes off the bedroom floor a non-urgent task, to my husband’s despair.
To me it makes sense to collaborate with my inspiration, rather than rescheduling it to a more convenient time.
Sometimes, it doesn’t work like that. After 40 minutes or so, whatever I’m working on is not flowing. Watching the clock is one sign it’s going that way. When it’s like that, I stop and do something else I enjoy.
For example, I wrote the first draft of the poem above when I was finding a particular part of my book heavy-going this week. And it was just the ticket. When I came back to my desk, it felt a little easier.
My other go-to reboots include dancing to a couple of tracks, or going for a walk.
A journaling prompt to try…
If I didn’t believe it was selfish I would….
If I could make time stand still I would ….
If money was no object I would…
Write each prompt out in full and complete each sentence. You could try completing each one three or more times. Often the later answers reveal what we may be resisting admitting to ourselves/looking at.
Read back what you have written. What patterns do you notice? What themes? What small step could you take in line with what’s coming up for you?
For example, after doing this exercise I decided to take myself out on a lunch date to the pub, alone, as an alternative to huddling next to the heater at home and eating a salad. It wasn’t a retreat in a Shropshire lakeside lodge. But it was warm, and delicious, nevertheless.
What else is inspiring/nourishing me
This song from my morning playlist.
This poem by Brian Bilston about January. Officially the longest month of the year.
Being with my dear friend and mentor Kellita Maloof in spirit, as she gave her TEDx talk in Fulsom, California. Her work and point of view has never been more needed. When it airs, I’ll let you know.
Thank you for your comments, replies and shares on the missive I published last week. If you didn’t see it, it’s possible it landed in your spam folder, given its fruity subject line.
I’m grateful for your support and company here.
With love,
Claire
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