The Rhythm of Days

I am not a person who likes a rigid schedule. It's not that I can't make it to meetings (though I don't love a day filled with them) or that I lose my calendar (it's on the fridge). It's that I like my activities to last as long as I have the attention span, and then I like to move on. Some days, that means I want to write for eight hours straight; other days, I'm lucky if I stay focused for 20 minutes before getting up for a snack, to do the laundry, wash the dog, or partake of any other distraction available. But I am also a person who gets much more done under a deadline, who works best when there are multiple things that need doing, who tends to fritter away time when there is nothing pressing going on. It is no coincidence, I think, that I have done more professional writing, and gotten more work published, since I had kids than I did before.

As I face the long weeks of summer, and the short days of daycare (two per week), I have to figure out how to get my own research and writing done. Although professors are technically "off" during the summer, what that means is that we don't have to go to committee meetings, meet with students weekly about their theses, or teach classes. Instead, we have to do research. Our jobs (and, for many of us, our career satisfaction) depend on spending time in libraries and archives, in coffee shops reading books, in comfy desk chairs taking notes and writing. Without the articles and books, we do not get tenure or promotions. Or academic respect.

In the seven weeks since the regular semester was over, I have taught two sections of an online course (extra work for extra pay = college funds for Son and Daughter), done a lot of gardening, frequented the gym, spent a delightful week with my brother's family, immersed myself in blogs I love to read, built a cardboard racecar and canoe, played countless games with the kids, and caught one huge fish. These have been useful, satisfying, and in many cases relaxing ways to spend my time, and I feel like I've gotten a good break from the burn-out that can result from the frenetic schedule of the regular academic year.

But I have done not one ounce of research and writing work. The work I adore. The work I need to do for so many reasons, including feeling intellectually satisfied with the balance of my life.

I have been thinking lately about the times in the past when I have been most productive. One was when I was pregnant with Daughter, and I never want to have a schedule that demanding again. I got a tremendous amount done, but when the semester was over (she was born during the last week of classes), all I wanted to do was sleep for three months to recover -- and that doesn't even count the tiredness of having a brand new baby. The other most productive time in my life was when I was studying for my qualifying exams in graduate school. I would wake up, have breakfast and make coffee, and sip and read all morning till I started feeling stir crazy. Then I would go for a run, shower, have lunch, and read all afternoon. Near dinnertime, I would hop on my bike for a spin down to the terrace on the lake to meet friends for a beer, or I would make some phone calls, or do something else social. (Keep in mind, I had probably not spoken a single word all day long.) After dinner: more reading until bedtime.

I think the reason I got so much done that summer (I read 30 novels in a month -- Victorian novels, none of which were shorter than 400 pages, and many of which were longer -- plus had a month of poetry and a month of prose reading to do) is that I had a rhythm but not a schedule. I had a long-term goal of what I needed to accomplish over the 3 months, and I had a calendar of what needed to happen weekly, as well as daily goals. But, honestly, I did what I wanted to. If I really couldn't stand to read anymore, which happened the day I quit reading Bleak House, then I would go hiking or roller blade around the lake on the bike trail, or do something completely un-thinky. If I couldn't focus, I would change tracks. But my days had a lovely rhythm: eat - read - physical activity - eat - read - social activity - eat - read - sleep. It was a nice pattern that worked for me because I had no kids, no boyfriend, no obligations except to study incredibly hard and pass the exams so that I could start writing my dissertation.

I have come to the conclusion that I need to recapture that goal of having an established rhythm for my days. I obviously can't have that particular pattern any more, but I think I could get into a rhythm that would work for me and for my kids. We need a little structure. It is too easy to fritter away time, whether online or procrastinating over household tasks. I don't want the summer to disappear in a haze of errands run and clothes folded and moments snatched to read blogs. I want some chunks of time devoted to writing, others for reading. I want to be fully present while doing projects with my kids, rather than thinking constantly "I still have to pay the bills and check email." It will take me a little time to figure out a plan, but I'm going to do it tonight and even write it down. It will be general, and have room for the improvisation that is such a vital part of living one's very best life, but it is my hope that it will become a predictable rhythm for the kids, who also seem to thrive when they know what is coming next. Something like this might work:

eat - read - physical activity - eat - rest(kids)/write(mama) - chores - playtime/projects - eat - read - sleep

One could do worse than a life organized this way. Do your days have a rhythm?