Navigating a Busy Day
Today’s one of those days where I could easily justify not writing.
I was out late last night, so I slept in later than usual because my body needed more rest. As a result, I started my day with a call instead of my normal flow.
I didn’t wake up, make a coffee, twirl around a bit, then perch myself at my keyboard and ask which ideas want to play. Instead, I woke up and sprung into action.
Which is fine. I made that choice. I scheduled a call that’s deeply important to me, one that’s an even higher priority than my morning musings. So I’m not upset, bitter or disappointed.
I’m simply saying, “Hmm.”
Because as I looked around my apartment moments ago, noticing the piles of clothes scattered here, the open suitcase there, and reading through the list of things I hope to get done before I leave in two days for five months of traveling, I found myself asking if it would be better to just skip writing for the day. “You have a lot to do,” I told myself. “Maybe just have a ‘get stuff done’ day.”
And I contemplated it. But here I am, perched at my keyboard instead. Slowing down and sipping tea, seeing if any ideas want to play.
There’s an old Zen saying that goes, “You should sit in meditation for twenty minutes a day. Unless you're too busy, then you should sit for an hour.”
I love few sayings more. Meditate for twenty minutes, unless you’re too busy. Then meditate for an hour.
Feel busy? Slow down.
Feel too busy to slow down? Then slow down for longer.
I’m the kind of person who’s more likely to give myself a free pass than to beat myself up over something. I think it’s a gift of alcoholism (wow, blackout-induced brain damage–did you specifically target the critical parts of my brain?! Thanks!), or maybe it’s due to the neural pathway rewiring that’s happened with ayahuasca, or maybe it’s just a stroke of good luck. I used to be hard on myself, but now I’m not.
Whatever the cause, I’m grateful. I think self-compassion is important and I’m happy to (generally) live in that space. For now, at least. Who knows how things will unfold or shift.
But now, in this moment, as a person who values self-compassion and tries to live in it, I found my conundrum interesting. Do I give myself a pass on the writing and just get stuff done? Or do I follow through with my daily writing plan and park my behind down at my desk?
Which decision is truer to my value system? Which action is more aligned?
Since I’m sitting here, my answer is obvious.
I don’t write because I have this streak I need to keep up or because I’m accountable to anyone or because I feel like I need to or because I’ll label myself a failure if I don’t.
I write because I love it.
I write because I signed a pact with the Universe, promising to devote myself to this path for a while. To follow through. To show up consistently and see what happens.
I write because it’s usually the next right thing to do.
And I write because it fills my cup. I once heard a woman on a podcast quote a British writer saying, “I put writing ahead of everything else because writing makes me who I want to be. When I write, I’m the woman, wife, mother and human I want to be. When I don’t, I’m not.” and everything inside of me lit up. I can’t find the podcast or remember who the guest was quoting, so if anyone knows, please let me know.
Writing is a foundational wellness practice for me. It’s a way to connect to the Divine and keep my cup full.
So, if the twenty, thirty, sixty minutes I spend engaging with this sacred practice means that I don’t get everything done on my list…oh well.
Maybe sitting down at my computer means I’m going to lug dirty clothes to Thailand instead of finishing all my laundry. I don’t want anyone to fall out of their seat, but…they do laundry in Thailand. The world won’t end.
And I know this is very specific. I know that very few people reading this have a sacred writing practice. I know there aren’t many of you who start your day by lighting a candle and saying, “I show up today as I hope to show up all days: as an act of devotion,” then writing for an hour.
But I suspect many of you have something that is as important to you as writing is to me.
And I bet that this temptation to prioritize a clean house or a to-do list over a foundational wellness practice is pretty common. This question of, “What’s the self-compassionate action to take?” certainly doesn’t feel like a writers-only dilemma. I’m guessing runners struggle with it. As do moms and caretakers and jugglers and parrot wranglers and whatever else you might do that makes you feel the way you want to feel.
So today, I’m publishing how I worked it out for myself. Keely of tomorrow might make a different decision. Keely of ten years from now might laugh at how immature my thinking was. But this is how learning in public works.
I’m also learning that it’s how connecting works. One of us shares what’s going on in our inner world and offers an invitation to hear what’s going on in the other’s inner world. Then we chatter and laugh, remembering that the more personal we get, the more universal it becomes.
And that’s my musing for today. I guess I better get back to packing now. Also–how does one pack for five months of travel that spans wildly different climates?! Someone please help because I have no idea. I probably just need to put my capes in the bag and then trust that the rest will take care of itself, right?
