It is 6:47 on a Sunday morning and I’ve already been up for two hours. Most of that time was spent sweeping and then mopping the floors while I listened to an Audiobook (Recursive by Blake Crouch) and thinking about taking the next steps in my writing project. I am going to be writing more on that project this morning. I am also going to be giving editor feedback to a cluster of short stories, prepping half a dozen new classes, and preparing for two new one to one student mentorships. Next week I’ll start to lay out my writing schedule in earnest as I get a better sense of what my days look like from a teaching perspective. My life here is a very scheduled affair and when I don’t put in time for the things that matter I find that the first few things to fall to waste are generally about me.
Writing is balance. The problem with feeling a story deeply or any project deeply is that you pour yourself into it at the exclusion of everything else. Worse even, you may be like me and sacrifice the long term for the short, present, and loud. For example, since I’ve been back I haven’t completed my exercise ring a single time. In comparison, when I was in Seattle with less on my plate (and the ability to walk outdoors) it was a rare day that the ring didn’t buzz happily with completion.
Here I need to schedule a workout. Here I need to decide if I am going to take the time to be on my bike or do something else. here there is more something else to be lost in. Yet there is also less to enjoy. What I get lost in is minutiae and cleaning up after people and chauffeuring people around. There is good in a lot of it, but I need to be smarter and more mindful of the time I spend on any of it, because I have far less time that truly belongs to me.
Knowing how much time you have to do what you want and need is a necessary part of this writing life.