Monday, July 9, 2012

Time: The Secret to Happiness (or Misery)



I used to believe that what would make me happy was something splashy like falling in love or traveling to someplace exotic.  I must still believe that on some level, because otherwise why would I be so shocked to learn that one of the things that has made me the happiest in my life has been managing my time more efficiently, performing simple, constructive acts and noticing them – getting credit for them and giving myself credit -- in a daily reliable consistent way.
On the other hand, as a writer, I’ve always known that how I use my time is strongly linked to what kind of mood I’m in on any given day.  On days when I write I feel good about myself and on days when I don’t, no matter how over-joyed I was when I made the decision not to, I end up feeling significantly worse about myself at the end of the day.
I’ve also learned that the key to getting anything done is planning when I’m going to do it during the day, making little boundaries around chunks of time.  Almost every Monday through Friday for over twenty-five years, I’ve looked at my day, thought about what I had to do, and then figured out roughly when, in the midst of all that, I could do my writing. On days when I didn’t look at my schedule and figure out where I was going to fit my writing in, I often didn’t get any writing done at all. And on those days I had an uneasy, out-of-control feeling.  I felt like a person adrift on the ocean instead of a person in a little boat with her hand on the tiller – when you’ve got your hand on the tiller there are no guarantees the boat won’t get swamped by some small or big wave, but at least there’s a chance that you can make it go where you want.  The feeling of uneasiness, of aimlessness and adrift-ness, is subtle but unpleasant, and for me it leads to depression.  For years I managed to ward it off, for the most part, by planning when I’d write on any given day and writing then.
But over the last seven years I’ve taken on many new time commitments, and it took me a while to figure out how to get in all those new things as well as get in my writing.  For a while, until I figured out how to juggle it all, I found myself not writing on more days than I liked or that I’d care to mention.  And I also noticed my stress level rising.  There was no end to the fretting and general sense of uneasiness because there was no end to the stream of little things I needed to get done along with my own writing and meeting and working with other writers in my new job as a writing coach. On many days I made lists of things I needed to accomplish and as I did each thing I crossed it off the list and that helped with the sense that there was something I was forgetting to do.  But I still had a basic underlying feeling of anxiety that there was too much to do and that I was failing because I wasn’t getting everything done.  I couldn’t get everything done -- there simply wasn’t enough time for it all. 
The very thought that there wasn’t enough time made me anxious.  It was a kind of low-level scarcity consciousness that affected me all the time although I barely noticed it, the way you don’t hear the muzak in a grocery store after you’ve been there for a long time.  It made me physically tense and used up lots of mental energy.  It affected how efficient I was too.  When I was doing one thing I fretted about not doing another, or I flitted from one thing to another and then back to the first as if I had to do everything at once. I rushed through all of my tasks without really noticing what I was doing -- the way you might gulp down food without noticing what you’re eating, let alone tasting or enjoying it -- and I didn’t take much pleasure in my day.
It wasn’t until I started putting boundaries around little chunks of time – planning what I was going to do over the course of any given day and when I was going to do it (more about my planning system in future blogs) -- that I started to feel better.  It was the knowing what I was going to do when – and the knowing what I was not going to do then -- that was and still is bringing me relief and relaxation.  If I don’t plan and everything is just vague and open-ended, I may get things done, I may even get everything I need to do done, but somehow I’m not totally, consciously aware of what I’m accomplishing.  I feel anxious the whole time about whether I’m doing what I need to, whether there are things that I’m forgetting, and about all the things I should be doing that I’m not.  And often I don’t accomplish very much.  I try to do everything at once and end up doing nothing, or I can’t decide what to do and end up doing nothing.  Or I may go from one task to another, touching on each one but not completing it, like a butterfly lighting on one flower and then flitting to the next flower it notices.
When I do that I feel scattered and discombobulated; I keep rehearsing all the tasks “on my plate” (I hate that expression, as if work was food that you have to eat whether you want to or not) and worrying about whether I can get them all finished when I have to.  Whereas, when I know what I’m going to do and when, when there are boundaries around the tasks in my day and the time they’re going to take, I feel in control of my day, I feel like I’m making choices about what I do instead of having those choices made for me by default or not made at all.  

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