Every time I think that I have myself figured out, I throw myself a curveball. You might think that by this time I would have figured out how to read my own pitches, but apparently I can be as much of a mystery to myself as I am to everyone else. So my batting average against myself isn’t particularly impressive.
Recently I have given myself permission to organize and perform my personal work in a way that is facilitated by the way my brain is, or seems to be, naturally wired. In other words, I’m trying to work the way my brain works, in the hopes of getting better results than constantly working at cross purposes. Saying I will get up at 5 am every day when no one else is awake and put in a good hour of writing before anyone else needs me is all fine and dandy to say, but I think it’s obvious that that plan won’t work for everyone. It might not work for anyone besides Ernest Hemingway, and he’s dead.
Saying Every day at 2 pm I shall do thus-and-so doesn’t work for me, either; things “come up” at work, Saturdays might depend on someone else’s schedule over which I have no control, and Sundays… well, maybe I will feel like cleaning the bathroom at 2 pm on a Sunday. If I do, I had better clean the bathroom before the urge passes. I can surely find another time to do thus-and-so if it’s so important.
But that’s something anyone could figure out and work with. What I’m doing — not claiming that I’m special by any means — is realizing that I need to work with my own particular ebb and flow of energy and interest. Every so often I’ll have a weekend where everything comes together, and between 10 and 2 on Saturday I will be incredibly productive at whatever my mind sets itself to do. When that happens I stop trying to do what I have planned for the day, and I just GO DO and then write down everything I did. Am I sanitizing my to-do list or just recording what actually happened? I’m not sure, but I realize now that I would rather accomplish Set B of Ten Things than beat myself up all weekend about not having done Set A of Five Things.
So I’ve stopped beating myself up. And I’ve started paying attention to the increased energy I get when I discover a new rabbit-hole of an interest. Guess what, I’m going to go down the rabbit hole now and see everything that’s in there. I’ll bring back what I bring back. It might be of temporary interest or lasting interest, but how do I know which one it is unless I go down the hole?
I’ve noticed another “tell” I have that a new special interest is on the horizon; I go into denial about spending time with it. I explain that I’m checking out all these library books for later because I’m just too busy right now, I can’t take on anything else right now, I don’t have time for this right now.
But if it’s interesting enough, I’ll make the time. I’ll reschedule. I’ll find a way to get the new book on my reading schedule. Because if it sparks an interest that looks like it will persist and lead to other things, I’ll follow. I must follow. Because if I don’t follow it, it will go on without me, someone else will take it up, the urge will pass, the energy will ebb. When I go back to it later, it won’t be the same. — the ship has sailed, without me.
That’s all right. Ships sail all the time (that’s what ships do, after all) and there will be another ship. I’ll try to catch the next one when I have the energy boost. Where I’ll go, I’m not sure. But it will be interesting.
Chocolate Sheep 