After “sharing” home office space with my husband for three
years (translation: I had a desk in there but I was rarely at it because our
working styles were not compatible), he moved to his new office in our unused formal
living room last week. I’ve spent much of the past few days cleaning and
organizing my space and collecting my things from where they were scattered
throughout the house. I’ve still got some organizing to do, but at least I know
everything is here (somewhere) and I again have a door I can close when I need
to.
I took the day yesterday to relieve my horse of his winter
coat. (Click here to see what that entails.) Yes, even though it’s still near 90 degrees and humid, Tank was sporting
his usual premature wooliness. I’m not quite finished—I have three legs left
and some tidying—but he’s much more comfortable. Since he’s now shorn, that
means it’s likely a cold front will come through and drop the temps. (Bring it
on! I have a horse blanket.)
I expect to have a more “normal” schedule in the next week
or so and will get back to more regular posting soon.
Much of the poetry that has endured the longest is about the
relentless movement of time, and in ways all art is about just that. Here’s a
landscape in which time is at work, by Geraldine Connolly, who lives in Montana.
[Introduction by Ted Kooser.]
That’s what I feel like I’m doing. Anyone else? Is it just
me, or does life seem unaccountably, almost unbearably busy lately? I feel
frantic! I have no down time between activities. I’m distracted—more so than normal.
I shudder to think what the holidays will be like when I feel like this in
September.
Since reading World Enough and Time, I’ve become more aware of time and my use of it, even
going so far as to keep a time log a couple of weeks ago. Maybe it’s because
I’m more aware that it seems like life has sped up?
From keeping the time log, I learned that I multi-task A
LOT, and I do a lot of small tasks that add up to big chunks of time. I had to
use a pen with an extra fine tip in order to fit all I did into the half hour
boxes of the time log! Even if I was working out on the elliptical machine, I was also reading a magazine. If we had the TV on, I was cooking or cleaning the
kitchen, balancing the checkbook or folding laundry. The only time I had large
stretches of time doing one thing was when I went to the barn, and that’s
because I didn’t record each individual thing I did while I was there.
No wonder I’m so tired by the end of the day. I really do
cram a lot of little tasks into my days, often doing them one right after
another. Since I can’t really point to any major accomplishment, except maybe
keeping our lives running, I never get a feeling of satisfaction and
accomplishment from what I do. So many things I do “disappear”—they must be
done again, and again (and again). They’re not even noticed by anyone unless I
stop doing them.
Is this a problem? Maybe. If I’m running around filling my
days with the little details, I never have to face my fears—the fear that I
won’t have anything to say when I sit in front of a blank page, or the fear
that if I stopped “doing,” my worth as a human being would plummet. I want to
be a contributor in life, not just a taker, but the way in which I’m going
about it now is not sustainable.
I don’t want to live like this anymore. I’m stepping back
and calling a halt, starting with a day off tomorrow. I’m going to look at my
current schedule and activities and ask:
*Does this need doing?
*Do I need to do
it?
*Can it be done less frequently?
*Can someone help me with this so it will go quicker?
It’s a start. Maybe then I’ll be able to get my head above
water.
Do you have any tips on controlling your schedule and
commitments you can share?