Tuning the Cacophony

nad_dyagileva via Pixabay

According to Checkiday, today is Stay Home with Your Kids Day. And, according to an article I found on Twitter, the biggest obstacle to blogging is not time, but focus.

Finally, according to me (and many others before me), you can't believe everything you read.

While I didn't exactly stay home with my daughter (and she's not exactly a kid, although she's still my kid), her needs played a big part in my day. I woke up focused on what I needed to do today (okay, not from the exact second my eyes popped open, but you get the idea) and created my plan, which included writing this blog post early in the day.

Then the printer died. A dead printer the week before fall semester is not something I can easily work around. I tried the tools in my tech tool box, minimal though they may be, then handed off to my husband who, luckily, was home today. While he did some troubleshooting, I tackled the planning and prep I could do without a printer until he, too, declared the printer dead.

Meanwhile, my daughter came downstairs, ready to hit the gym, and reminded me that she had an early afternoon doctor's appointment, and asked if I was still coming along. Of course, I said, wincing at the realization that I'd completely forgotten to factor that into my day (even though I'd written it in my calendar).

So. To recap. Course prep I wanted to check off before the blog? Brought up short due to technical difficulties. Block of time following course prep during which I was supposed to write the blog? Wiped out by a doctor's appointment. The block of time following that? Printer shopping and the Target run we didn't do over the weekend because we were traveling -- taking said daughter to school to set up her room. Choir practice, precariously perched in the evening hours by which all of this was supposed to be completed? Well, that bit the dust because, you know, dinner and maybe actually finishing the things I started seven or so hours ago.

I suppose one could argue that I was distracted by all of these other things that happened today. That would be a valid argument. But, to disregard the role lost time played in this scenario is to be -- hang on a minute, my husband's calling me about the printer...

...naïve. To say the least.

This, folks, is the writing life. I'm not complaining -- it's a pretty good life -- but navigating it successfully has to do with much more than dodging distractions.

If I had my day to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. I checked a lot of little items off my back-to-school to-do list but, more important, I spent time with my daughter and my husband (albeit at the doctor's and Staples and Target). In addition, we managed to replace a very necessary piece of office equipment in under twelve hours. Choir was a casualty and, unfortunate as that may be, better choir than my sanity.

The internet is full of "just do this and you'll be so much more productive" stories or, worse yet, "if only you fixed this one thing about yourself, life would be so much easier" stories.

Uh huh. Because a complete stranger knows exactly what I need to fix about me.

Yet we buy into this stuff.

The reality is that one size, strategy, approach or focus doesn't fit all of us. Some days, we need to close the door, buckle down, check things off the list and maybe try a few of those productivity tips. But, when we do that too often -- or, worse yet, at the expense of relationships or our own well-being -- that's not productive.

That's counter-productive.

I felt awful sending the "I'm not going to make it to choir" text, especially since last weekend's travel means I missed singing yesterday, too. I quickly ran through all the things everyone else in the group juggles every day and found myself completely lacking and insufficient. But you know what?

I was probably the only one doing that.

mohamed_hassan via Pixabay

Life is full of choices and all we can do is make the best choice available to us in the moment. The more we listen to ourselves, tuning out the cacophony of expectations we play on an endless reel in our heads, the more likely that choice will be one we're happy with in the long run.

And, in order not to further confuse things or crank up the guilt-o-meter, it's important to remember one other thing.

You can't believe everything you read. Because all that does is add to the cacophony.