I have a good daily rhythm in place. It’s full, but not excessive. There is wiggle room and space to breath. There’s space for rest. Even so, I have to recognize the reality that there’s always plenty to do. And, while there’s wiggle and breathing room in the daily schedule, there’s never empty space that is just waiting to be filled.
Consequently, there are weeks when something has to give. There are times when I have to look at the routine and pick out something that can be compacted, delayed, or even completely set aside for that day or week.
I’m in the middle of a few months that will include more irregular weeks than routine ones. It’s normal for this time of year. While a few of my commitments are new, most of them are expected events, activities, or appointments that tend to all cluster together this time of year. I expect them and know to prepare for them. But their impact is still very real and very present.
And in times like these, something has to give.
Over the last couple of weeks, the “something” has been writing. On several of my normal writing days, I was on the road or participating in a commitment. Other days, I really needed to devote that time elsewhere. I did compact chores a little bit, knowing that I could shift and juggle them over the course of a few weeks without getting too far behind on anything. But, the biggest bulk of flex time could be most easily found by setting aside the writing in favor of necessities.
Here’s where the challenge comes in, though. It’s easy to assume that because writing is the easiest thing to set aside, that means it’s the least important. After all, my writing has very little definable purpose. It does not produce income. I am not working toward any particular publication. I have no deadlines. It’s just time that I’ve set aside by choice.
I may not enjoy chores, but I can only set them aside or compact them for a short time before I fall behind. They must be done. The hours each week that I devote to contract work may be very flexible, but by the end of each month, I have to have hit a certain number of work hours for the month if I am going to get paid the agreed-upon amount. How I manage those hours can flex from week to week, but ultimately (specifically by the last day of the month), I’ll have to get them all in. And, of course, there are always other responsibilities related to church and life and health that must get done.
Writing is the one thing that has no obligation. No commitment. No necessity attached to it.
In the last few months, I’ve been reminded why I started writing years ago. It’s my most reliable creative outlet. And, whether we acknowledge it or not, we are all designed to create in some way. It may not look like what our society defines as creativity. We may have to work a bit to understand it. But, it’s there. And when we stifle our creativity because it doesn’t feel practical or purposeful to a culture focused on productivity, we suffer.
For many, many years, I only wrote for work. There were a variety of reasons I stopped writing personally, but at least part of it was related to that sense of productivity and the recognition that my writing didn’t really produce anything. And through those years, my personal growth suffered because I wasn’t writing.
Now I’m trying to get back into the habit, but those old lies don’t die easily. Those lies that tell me that because my writing is not productive, it’s not important. Those lies that use the example of the truly busy weeks, those weeks when writing does have to be set aside, to try to convince me that every week is too busy. That every hour set aside for writing is taking me away from something more important. I have home projects that are glaring me in the face. I could be working more contract hours. I could be spending more time on this or that ministry investment.
There’s always something. And in the light of the “something,” I could go back to where I was for many years. I could make it the rule that writing can be set aside. I could make writing the exception, the thing that only fit when I really have time.
And then I would never have time.
It’s hard. I’m fighting it today, especially since we only have two or three routine weeks over the course of about three months. This is one of them, and there are so many other things that I could be doing to maximize my productivity this week.
Instead, here I sit. Writing. Choosing. Even if it’s just a few minutes here and there. Even if I don’t get everything published on schedule. I’m choosing to write.
Yes, there are always times when something has to give. In all honesty, even with the best and most flexible of schedules, we’re rarely going to face weeks where we can get it all done because random things always pop up. But, even when something has to give, the practice of creating is still important. It still has to be a choice.
And today, I choose to do whatever I can to keep it going.
Not Quite Ordinary 