Creating Space

Learned candle making T Rookwood in Cincinnati
I learned candlemaking and choosing scents at Rookwood in Cincinnati.

Whew! The last several weeks have been a whirlwind of activity – mostly good, but between writing, traveling, tours, and musical performances (in the audience, not on stage!), I have been busy. I knew that this period was going to take a lot out of me – physically and creatively, but I had just enough margin between activities that I could pause, rest, and get back into whatever was coming next.

What I have come to realize is that I need more margin in my life, even though my workload is considerably lighter than it was three years ago. Some call it cushion, others use the term buffer, but I have learned to be more intentional about including pockets of space in my schedule to regroup before dashing off to the next thing. 

This shows up in a few different ways, but here are the main approaches I take to being intentional about creating space in my life.

Looking at my time by the month, week, and day

I have both a digital and paper calendar because I like the ease of scheduling digitally, the ability to easily share and invite others to events. However, I also love paper, stationery, and writing things by hand, so I use my paper calendar for key events and also as a written record of my life. Coupled with my journals, it gives me a way of looking back, which has been particularly useful in writing personal essays and my memoir. I tend to have a good memory for what lies ahead but I believe having the two calendars helps. 

I color code events so that at a glance, I can quickly identify a couple of things – when I am traveling, which means I need to build in buffer days before and after a trip. When I look at my week, I notice which days are already full, and when possible, make sure I add a slow day in there to catch up on admin tasks, work in the yard, or spend a relaxed day at home.

Allowing More Time

The other way I create space is by allowing more time to complete tasks, arrive at my destination, or to get ready before I head out the door. It’s not because I am disorganized; it is because I don’t like to rush. I am always going to be a bit early for a flight, get to the meeting five or ten minutes ahead, put the card or gift in the mail with plenty of margin. I remember when I used to go out with my mother and she would sometimes feel the need to rush because she did not move as quickly as she used to. I would say to her, “We don’t have to rush, we can take our time.” And each time, I saw her shoulders relax, comfortable that she was not slowing me down. That is how I have decided to treat myself – that there is enough time to do what needs to be done and I don’t have to rush around, which I find stressful. Even building in ten extra minutes can help with leaving the house for a meeting. And when working on writing projects, I do the same thing, working at a pace that serves the work and me.

Ignoring the Nudge that Says I Need to be Doing More

Sitting still does not come naturally to me. Perhaps it is because of decades of jobs and responsibilities that required me to be always ready, always moving. But if I really want to enjoy what I call “my calm season,” then I had to learn how to sit myself down and ignore that sense that I should always be doing something. What something is, I am not always sure, but for years I was always looking for one more thing I could take care of. Others notice that about me too; once one brother commented that me and another brother are always looking around for something to do. Maybe it was a sense that I did not want to fall behind, or that sitting still was unproductive. Whatever it was, I am working on it.  

Nowadays, when I feel that inclination to get up and “look” for something to do, I stop and ask if it has to be done now, or if I am just restless. There are days when my next action is to observe what is happening near me, or take a breath until the urge passes. On another day, I might choose to read rather than start a chore. Lately, since it is warm outside and I can sit on the screened porch, I have taken to listening. I sit still and simply listen for the sounds that are around me. I might hear birds, a car driving past the house, the intermittent hum of the air conditioner cycling on and off, or the click of my pen if I am writing. Stopping, just to listen, is another way of building a pause into the moment.

Limiting Commitments

I don’t say yes to every invitation or request, because I realize that saying yes to one thing means a no to something else. If it means I have to miss time I need for rest, a personal priority, or quiet, then sometimes I have to say “No” to opportunities, or rearrange my schedule so I have the space that I need to feel my best. 

What is Next

I am entering a season where I will be learning new skills, which takes time. I won’t be able to do everything, and that is fine. I’ll start most mornings with movement of some kind, before I journal, and get back in the chair to write. But the afternoon will be my time to pause, when I can chat, read, daydream, paint, or do whatever seems appealing in the moment. Yes, I like a schedule and a plan, but my plan for this season is to enjoy the opportunity for learning and creativity while maintaining the space for renewal and planning I need. 

Reflection

Do you have the quiet space, the time to pause, that you need to feel your best? 

Until the next time, peace.

Ramona