Protecting My Time

A weekend ago, I pulled out my folding table and declared it a "weekend of silence." I wanted to focus on my writing and have some introvert time, which is hard to come by in my life. Particularly as someone who is often caregiving for others to the max -- I mean, do you know what it means to be on call and go to a client at 4am after being awake until 2am? -- carving out space for myself sometimes feels impossible. And yet I still think I have it easy in comparison to my clients with their new babies and people I work with who have to hustle even harder than I do. There are always people who have to do more with less and are routinely more badass than I am about it.

But those comparisons just remind me that protecting my time is immensely valuable. And I wanted to write about the topic because I am genuinely so bad at it.

This post less an "if you just do these 5 things, you'll have all the time you need" and more of a "here's a firm reminder that you need to protect your time" no matter what you use it for. I tend to think that we all bow to the pressures around us, fall off the horse and then get back on it, wiggle around a little, fall off, get back, etc. And in some ways I think that is really beautiful - it is a true opportunity to push ourselves further.

I know that I have found a process that works for me, after so many experiments. This past weekend, I chose to listen to it fully (and that truly was a choice that had to be made!)

On the first night, I revamped my white board (really a green board). It used to just be a long long laundry list of tasks that were very vague and most of the details were kept in my head. So the first thing I did was get very specific. I gave tasks a rating scale of how much effort they would need, and I put even little things like 'email this person' up next to 'write an essay draft'. It's now organized in 'To Do', 'Doing', and 'Done.' And it gives my nerd heart a little thrill to watch as things move progressively over to the right.

And then I just forgot about it.

I tend to be that person who has to dump everything out of my head before I can let go and make space for the real work to be done. If it is in my head, it's buzzing. On the board, I can go sit at my folding table and paint until the words come (and yes, I paint and knit and consider it all part of my writing practice; doing something tactile really settles me into that work).

The second morning, I woke up without feeling anxious. Because I really did give myself permission for whatever needed to happen to make my writing process feel grounded. Intuition guided me to nap or to break out the sticky notes or to change locations so I could focus better. I made sure that the dishes were done and that all my materials were laid out in advance.

On the third day, it was the eclipse. I chose to go be with people I care about and watch it happen - historical event, you know? - but I also drew the energy I needed. Social interactions for me can be draining or they can refill my cup, the difference being the choice I made to participate.

On the final night, my client called me and that marked the end of my self-focused time. Back to the world. But back to the world with the confidence that I could always create that space again. Next weekend, next month - preferably not next year! My next big step will be to take some concentrated time away to take what I learned about my novel this weekend and flesh it way out.

For now, here was my board at the end of the weekend:

If you'd like to read a snippet of some of the things I worked on, consider subscribing to my Patreon to gain access to a newsletter with extra little goodies (and sometimes drafts of my work!)

A Note on Time from Julian Barnes

"We live in time--it holds us and moulds us--but I've never felt I understood it very well. And I'm not referring to theories about how it bends and doubles back, or may exist elsewhere in parallel versions. No, I mean ordinary, everyday time, which clocks and watches assure us passes regularly... And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time's malleability. Some emotions speed it up, others slow it down; occassionally, it seems to go missing--until the eventual point when it really does go missing, never to return." - Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending

Fear of Falling: Skating and Thoughts on Exercise

Me as a tennis player, back in the times of yore.

This weekend, I start going to the Gotham Girls Rec League Level 1 for beginning skaters. I'm extremely excited - but also very nervous! I have been skating sporadically throughout the summer, but this is the time where I will be getting back to it in earnest. I am happy to say that I am getting better and better each time I get back on, but I still have a knee-jerk reaction to hold back when I start going "too fast" or feel myself toppling over. Perhaps this is the common fate of humankind (Thou shalt not roll on wheels as a form of locomotion), but I have seen so many brilliant players that do it effortlessly that I can't help but feel envious.

On a similar note of self-reflection, I have realized that I was at one point accustomed to getting 2 hours of exercise 5 days a week for at least half the year. It was a realization that made me go "whoa" aloud in my bedroom at 1am. I used to be a tennis player who, while not very good, really enjoyed the game and the exercise involved in it.

I completely forfeited that when I came to college.

And I've come to realize that exercise and movement is actually something I really need to be consistently happy. Perhaps because I was getting that throughout high school, I grew accustomed to it and felt that it was an integral part of my life. But now, when the choice is sleeping a little longer or getting in an hour of exercise, I choose to hit the snooze button.

College may give me a lot of choices in lifestyle, but it binds with the same force. With the pressure of classes, homework, my job, and my internship all going down at once, I really have to carve out the hours for everything else - from art to exercise, they get pushed off to the side.

I am seeing how important it is to make that time happen. Skating for 2 hours every week will be just one of my first steps.

Interested to read more about roller derby? Read my post about How Roller Derby Challenges Stereotypes of Women in Sports.

Project x Project: To Slump or Not to Slump?

Sometimes I feel like productivity is the only way to go for me. I have to be seriously working on something, giving it my all, making plans, and working through them as steadfastly as possible. But, as you can imagine, it is pretty difficult to keep up that level of productivity all the time - especially when juggling being a full-time student and part-time worker. So it can feel sometimes like I'm in a bit of a slump.

This week, for example, I have taken off some time from work to spend with my boyfriend as he visits me for his spring break. I have done a lot of my homework in advance so that we can spend time together but, as you might imagine, there is still some downtime when we are enjoying each others' company without necessarily having a plan to structure the day. And that's when I get antsy. Shouldn't I be working on something? Should I read ahead in my book for the week after next? Should I start working on that collage project that I have been meaning to start? The questions keep on coming, and yet I don't actually enact any of these things. Is it a slump?

I have always wondered if this is really and truly the attitude of a perfectionist. Feeling slump-y just because I haven't started working on my "next big thing?" Sounds like it. But the feelings are there all the same, making me feel like a little kid squirming around at the opera.

So, I am going to open up the question to you. What do you do when you start to feel like you're in a slump? Is there anything that remedies these feelings? How do you spend your time? Let me know!

Why Eating Can Make Me Depressed

I've returned to Barnard on a pretty dreary day, so I feel compelled to open up the week with a pretty dreary post. Yet, as with all dreariness, it's designed to make you think rather bring you further down in the doldrums. So, enjoy.

I consider myself a conscientious eater. I have made peace with my food issues, questioned the food fads put up in the media, and tried to separate eating from body image and make both of those more positive.
Yet I still get caught up on one particular eating paradigm: sustainable eating. This (admittedly very long) article by Michael Pollan opened up that can of worms again for me, the first time having been after I read his book The Omnivore's Dilemma. The article, and his book, tout the mantra "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." He goes on to debunk the myths of nutrient-based nutrition and favors whole foods for the reason that they are better both for the farmer and the eater. And I find all that wonderful, interesting, and something that I want to apply to my life - until I reach the grocery store or the restaurant.
Finding whole foods in the grocery store is easy enough if I stick to the right aisles (produce, meat, dairy), but the basic fact is that these foods need preparation. Which means equipment and time. For a college student that doesn't have an oven, that rules out a lot of possibilities. So, heading deep into the center aisles, I began to scour labels and decide what a whole food looks like when industrially prepared. Those foods I found that contained even something that remotely resembled a whole food were extremely expensive. Again, a college budget does not allow for much wiggle room. What I came out with wasn't nearly what Pollan intended when he sat down to write that article.
Thus I came out of the grocery store anxious and somewhat depressed at my gatherings, and with one key question: how can I possibly make sustainable eating work for me? Or for anyone else who has a low-budget and low-time lifestyle?

The answer is two-fold:
1. Giving yourself a darn break. I think sustainable eating has to come in small increments; on the one hand, because American culture hasn't caught on to it, on the other because you can't flip a switch and change your monetary situation, the amount of time you have, or your cultivated eating habits from childhood on up. Pollan presents some good ideas, but self-selecting the parts you can do and setting aside those you can't requires a personal evaluation.
2. Separating self-worth from eating. Thinking about the emotions that came up for me after I left the grocery store, they were very much akin to those I had when I was dieting. Sustainable eating presented an unrealistic set of goals that, when I failed to meet them, caused me to spiral down the ramp of low self-esteem in the exact same way. While this is not to say that sustainable eating is the same thing as dieting or that you do it for the same reasons, but the association between eating habits and self-worth is the same. The only way to make changes without those same negative thoughts is to recognize and recognize that the two are not parallel.
Pollan may include some really good ideas for a fulfilling sustainable eating pattern, but he doesn't address any of the other concerns (money, time, or emotion) surrounding what you put on your plate. It's up to everyone else to fill in those gaps with their own solutions.
What is your take? Should sustainable eating even be put in the same sentence as dieting? Does it exclude people? Should it be the norm? And how would you make it happen if that were your own goal?

You might also be interested in posts about eating at restaurants.

So...

So I've been extensively prolific in the last few days. Either the vomit of ranting out ideas has shoveled its way up my throat and through my fingertips or I'm just tearing down the 'pretty, sugar & spice' girl that people seem to want from me. Both are extremely satisfying.
I'm realizing that I use recurring words or ways to get out of things in my stories/poems/writing. When I can't think of anything at all, I will insert the word 'soft' or 'separate' or 'belief'. To get out of nearly any situation, I use a doorbell. I have yet to figure out what this means.
I've been trying to raise poems out of the muck of my half-breed drawing poems where the words curl around violent shapes and don't have a clear beginning or end. It's kind of fun, but also challenging. Because I am such a noob that I use the words 'soft' and 'separate' about every other damned sentence. So here it goes, a poem created out of a half-baked one which I hope may one day turn into a slam which I can then bring to the stage. Grr. Now it makes this seem all important.

Time.
Time to retract. Restate. Rebuild.
It's no longer a matter of justice - only politics. Only progress.
Move forward, ask questions later;
Were you ready? To move on to the next philosophy?
An open-book policy only drags you down,
Words are drowned out by the constant hum of the printed page -
The textbook expectations of your mass-produced mindset,
Words. Are. The. Meaning.
Words were the meaning...
Are you ready to go yet? Are you ready now?
We pride ourselves on that ideal which separates man from monkeys.
Think now, do later,
But I can't absorb your soft prayers to foot soaks and anti-bacterial sprays,
Think. Think about what you're doing to yourself;
Cover me up with the plastic remnants,
And shower me with this mantra in order to heal.
Words Are The Meaning. Words Are The Meaning.
Where are your suppressions?
To be human is all about suppression.
Rebirth. Direction.
Take a position. Take a stand.
Overexpose the soft sentiment for a brief glimpse at clarity:
Maybe you'll catch a glimpse of something intensely real.
Words were the meaning; now actions count as currency.
Clamor for the bleeding earth, bio-diesel, safer products, richer soil, hair extensions, tofu lunches...
Then, when all is said and done,
Quiet,
Can you hear your slow heart beating?
That steady swirl of black ink in your veins?
Words are the meaning.
There are places for your empty pause.
My heart is not one of them.