Morning owl

Always been a night owl, me. There's something about those midnight hours, free of telephone calls and emails. The silence outside the window. I felt that the fact everyone else was sleeping while I was awake was something special. I'd be more open to the flow, more creative. It didn't matter that I'd be falling alseep at my desk while listening to yet another playback of the track I was working on. Of course, the end result of staying up late is getting up late the next day.

Looking at it from the perspective of someone who's now up by 6 a.m. most mornings, I can see it was really a form of self-sabatoge. I'd stay up until after midnight - sometimes til dawn. I'd be wiped out the following day. No energy. Things would be left undone. I just couldn't get myself together.

I've recently made a rule for myself that I'll turn the technology off by 10 p.m. and may not turn it on again until 5 a.m. This is very much helping me avoid the checking of Facebook, email, forums, youtubes, etc., late at night. There's nothing to do but read a real book, or sleep.

The other thing I'm trying to do is prepare for the morning the night before. Get the dishes done. Make sure the studio is ready for morning inspiration. Tidy things up so there's nothing in the way of the flow.

I'm not a paragon of virtue here. I still struggle to get myself to bed at a reasonable time, but I find when you get up earlier you're usually ready get some zz's once supper's over, lol.

I still have a lot to do. There's a lot of minimalizing and sorting out that needs to be done to create a quiet and organized place where order begets creativity. Last night I was feeling overwhelmed by how much there is to declutter. I reminded myself, baby steps. Don't look at the whole thing. Just pick one small task to do, and do it.

Changing my life, one day - and one step - at a time.

I did this now.

Not even 8:00 a.m. in the morning and I’m at my computer, writing. I need to pinch myself to be sure I am actually awake. Perhaps I am asleep, dreaming of accomplishing things before the sun even rises on this chilly winter morning. I dream a lot. I have visions of myself completing tasks. Checking off the to-do list. Having organized shelves in the laundry room. That box of junk that’s been sitting in the front hall for months, taken down to storage. The empty pop cans in the truck of the car, dropped off at the bottle depot. Trouble is, thinking about it becomes a feedback loop.

Day one, I decide I need to reorganize my work area. Day three, I puzzle over how I would rearrange things. Day seven, I imagine myself unpacking the printer I purchased last month, setting it up, getting it working. Day eleven, I see reference materials stacked within reach; items essential to my work placed logically so I can easily access them. Day fifteen, the idea of reorganizing my work area to be more comfortable and efficient crosses my mind. I instantly feel guilty that I have done nothing to accomplish this goal. And so it goes.

At that point, the reorganization joins a myriad of other undone things I intended to do. They congeal into an insurmountable mountain of ‘shoulds’. They become a weight on my shoulders. They drag me down into the abyss of avoidance. I am overcome by guilt, and overwhelmed by all the things left undone.

There’s two things I know about this. Well, maybe three.

One: the drama of the guilt is a programme. Part of an operating system that is designed to stop me in my tracks. I am overwhelmed, I feel listless, tired, I tell myself I’ll do something later.

Two: the humongousness of the many undones defeat me. The mountain is too high. The exertion required is far beyond my capacity. The undones intertwine in a heaving mass of ‘you should have had this done by now’, rising before me and shutting out the sun. I feel demoralized, oppressed. I tell myself I’ll do something later.

Three: the only answer is to actually Do.

To that end I made a list called ‘Things I Dream of Getting Done’. I remind myself that small steps are alright. I remind myself that starting is the most important thing. Don’t even attempt to climb the mountain. Just set up a base camp.

Start. Baby steps. And, most important, persevere. A step a day is better than 10 steps on Friday night if 10 steps on Friday means overwhelming, over-extending, and overdoing, thereby creating the opportunity to say on Saturday, ‘I’m too tired. I’ll do it later.”  ~

I wrote this, and remembered to post it.

Confession time. I am a master procrastinator. Not that I have a degree or certificate. No expert has come along and dubbed me so. I didn't fill out the survey or questionnaire. If there was one, I put it someplace special I would remember so I'd get back to it.

Sometimes I'll get an email or a letter or a reminder that reminds me I need to be reminded to do this important thing. Reply. Fill out the form. Mail that answer. Later, I'll actually remember that I was supposed to do what I was supposed to do, and I'll be shocked that weeks have gone by since I said to myself, 'ah, yes, must remember to do this' just before I put that piece of paper in a drawer.

I always have good intentions. I imagine myself finishing that little chore, or fixing that item, or dropping off something to be repaired and then remembering to pick it up. I imagine how good it would feel to not feel guilty about all the things I should do or ought to get done because they have actually been done by some industrious creature that resembles me but must be an alien.

It's not all bad though! I actually had people over for Christmas dinner. They arrived to find there were places to sit, and cooked food ready to eat, served on clean dishes.

And I remembered to pick up that mat I had ordered online from the Hardware Store just before the one month limit expired. The fact that it's still in the trunk of the car is neither here nor there.

I have bookmarked a dozen youtube talks on how to be more productive, and I plan to watch them one day soon. I actually really did buy the book 'Getting Things Done' by David Allen, and I actually really did go to the office supply store too. I clearly remember having to tell the sales clerk I wanted those particular file folders because yes, it was just for an archive, otherwise he would keep insisting I buy the more expensive ones. To his dismay, I bought the cheaper folders. Once I got home I even wrote some titles on the tabs of some folders and organized them like David says in his book. Then I had to do something else and the next time I came back to look at my attempt at organization, I had to dig through a bunch of other stuff to get to it.

Now I've promised myself (yet again) that I will get up earlier, get organized, and start finishing things. Downsize. Clear out. Minimalize. Really, I will.