Perhaps fittingly, I’m beginning to explore the life practice of doing little things everyday as opposed to saving one day for an 8 hr. Project. Why not take 8 days in bite-sized chunks?
I’ve been trying to function this way for only a few months now & it’s driving me nuts. For most of my professional career, I’ve sent my kids to daycare & had 6-8 hours of straight focus time. If I wanted to work on my blog or books I’d head out to Starbucks for 3-4 hour chunks on a weekend or a weekday evening when inspiration hit.
This past half-year, I’ve been attempting to work from home while juggling my newborn & drop-off/pick-up times at my boys school. Maybe I’ll attempt a bit of productivity before but definitely not after the bedtime routine.
It’s just plain old different. When I see 15 free minutes I don’t get excited for what might be accomplished, I tend to think “oh yay, 15 minutes on Instagram because what else is the point?” And then of course, inevitable guilt.
But this is the way my life is set up now. Moreover, I want it this way! I want to be at home with my new daughter. I don’t want to miss a single thing. I want to be fully available to my growing boys, soccer, play dates & the like. I want to have space at home to write, practice & learn photography, invest in my franchise business, record for my new YouTube channel, finish my book, serve, volunteer & do ALL THE THINGS. I want every last little bit of my life, professional & domestic. Which means, I have to grow comfortable with 15-20 increments & pretty much constant interruptions.
I’m wondering if it would help me to consider my days full of many different aspects, interruptions and surprises much like life itself? Isn’t life also a series of unwanted disruptions? From the moment we’re forced out of the cherished womb until the final fatal moment of surrender to the grave we’re living with life’s havoc being thrust upon us with very little control of anything but our mindset & actions hoping beyond hope even those don’t turn into an epic death blow.
Fostering resiliency is an important part of life, a trait I thought perhaps I had better figured out.
It’s now the evening. The baby never stopped an endless parade of moaning. I cleaned a bit, ate dinner, fed my boys, did some laundry and here I sit ready to finish approximately 7 hours after I begun.
Am I the worst for it? No. Would you have even known if I hadn’t told you? No. Little by little, I’ll attend to the most important things in life. As Anne Lamott says, bird by bird.
Gotta go, the baby has woken up from her evening nap.