I just had a conversation with a friend who works at a school. She’s on Christmas break, and we talked about what one does during Christmas break as an adult. Aside from the inevitable errands, last-minute holiday shopping and wrapping gifts, how does an adult spend his or her time “on a break” and how does that differ from “the work life” we all know (and sometimes love)?
This is the stuff of hot cocoa and coffee and watching our teeenage kids enjoy a hobby together in the other room.
Her answer was very different than how I would spend my time on a break. And while neither answer was wrong, the conversation lingered with me long after we’d wished each other a Merry Christmas, gathered our teens and headed in different directions.
I have to admit that what stuck with me about our conversation wasn’t how great it is that we are different or how much freedom we have as adult human beings to make our own choices. (I wish that was my first response.)
Instead, later as I recounted the conversation to my husband, I realized it had stuck with me because I felt less than, ashamed, and lazy. My definition of “rest” during this season didn’t match my friend’s definition.
As it often does, it took my husband’s very different perspective to help me conclude that I’m just me and being “me” is okay. It’s not worse than, better than or even on a ratings scale. (Why do we, as women, rate ourselves so much and spin our wheels trying to score a higher score in our opinions of ourselves?)
Not for better or worse
How we define rest and how we define work matters. But it doesn’t matter for the reasons we think it does.
How I rest in this season vastly differs from how I rested in my 10-years-ago self. I’m nearing the halfway mark and what matters to me now is different than what mattered to me when my kids were young. I have to say, if I were rating what matters in my life (which I am trying hard not to rate), I’d have to give myself a 9 out of 10 for what matters to me most now vs. what mattered to me most then.
I wanted to work to show people I could do something meaningful with my life back then. So much of my waking hours were spent working hard in a journalism role that meant proving myself time and time again — every month was a new layout, a new set of articles, a new round of interviews designed to prove I had something to contribute to the social landscape of making our world better.
But it wasn’t truly that my work then was better or worse than it it is now. It was simply different.
My motivation for work now is to do something I enjoy, help others a little, and provide what our family needs — but not at the expense of meaningful family time.
While I once worked to prove I could contribute, I also worked to get ahead, make more money, and have more things. Again, this isn’t necessarily wrong, but the motivation behind working has shifted for me now. I would rather chase less stuff, allowing my kids to learn meaningful life lessons in the midst of it, and spend more time with them, with my extended family, and with my husband — the people who matter most.
Back to my conversation with Teacher Friend. If work has shifted for me, so has my idea of rest.
During downtime 10 years ago, I would have tried to produce somehow.
I would have made a list of recipes to make and groceries to shop for in order to make them.
I would have made sure to get outside and run, improving either my time or mileage with every step.
I would have cleaned, organized, or made our home better in some way.
I would have crafted for someone else — made a scrapbook, written a poem, or volunteered for a nonprofit using my writing skills.
None of these are bad, wrong, or worse. (Worse than what, I ask? Who knows? Again, it’s about doing away with the imaginary rating scale in our heads.)
Instead, my definition of rest has morphed into something that doesn’t look like I am achieving much. During my downtime, here’s where I can most often be found these days:
On a trail or a gravel path, I walk more to enjoy the fresh air and the trees than to improve my fitness level.
At a kitchen table, playing UNO with my kids.
On the road, driving one of my kids to do something he or she enjoys: playing guitar, meeting up with a best friend, grabbing a coffee together while thrift store shopping.
Sitting on the couch, talking to my husband about his day or deciding whether to watch a Netflix show or movie.
At a cafe, catching up with a friend I haven’t seen lately.
Here’s one I am adding to my list this holiday season: reading a book in the middle of the day. If you skip down to my follows, listens and resources, you’ll see why this is a significant shift for me.
How Our Definitions Impact the Writing Life
I realize that my definitions of work and rest are paramount when I think about my writing life. Instead of thinking about how productive I’ve been this month (how many articles did I pitch or write? How many books was I able to edit?), I am closing in on a shift in that mindset. (Notice I said “closing in on,” not “I’ve made it or changed.” I am still applying this new mindset, and it’s a work in progress.)
If my definitions of work and rest have changed, my writing definitions are getting smoothed out too.
It’s easy for writers to look at our pool of writing friends and compare.
“Her article just landed a major magazine.”
He’s just published his fifth book.
They’re killing it in our writing group, showing up and doing the “work” that a real writer does.
Instead of seeing my writing life as a productivity machine, I am starting to see it as a way of life.
Just as I do not segment my real life into categories and berate myself for achieving less, I can’t do that with my writing either.
For example, when I go out to run errands, I don’t only do certain kinds of errands. If I only did returns and didn’t throw in a grocery run or a fuel fill-up, I’d be nuts — a little too controlling and perhaps borderline obsessive with segmenting my errand life. Or if I only hung out with my kids at a certain time of day, simply out of a personal rule of life, I’d probably not spend much meaningful time with them.
As they get older, my time with them has shifted to what works for them on any given day. Some days, that’s early morning, driving my son to work. On other days, it’s late-night laughter when we “should” really all be asleep.
As with real life, writing can’t be categorized easily into “I did it” buckets if we’re going to view it without the self-imposed mental ratings scale. If we’re going to stop comparing ourselves to the writers we thought we’d be by now or the writer our friend over there is, we’ll have to shift our perspective of what the writing life looks like.
These days, my definitions of “work” and “rest” often apply to writing. Yes, it’s a both-and situation.
Some writing I do is more workish in nature, but I still enjoy it. And some writing I do is more restish in nature, but I find it necessary to mix into my workday because both kinds of writing fuel each other. If I write creatively or reflectively, it gets me in the mood to write other things. As I write more “paid” writing, it helps me feel excited to research, learn new things, and grow as a person. (e.g., be more self-aware and reflective).
How do you examine your writing life? Here are two questions to start with, and then you’ll see a few of my favorite follows and resources.
If I only wrote at a specific time every day, would that hinder my love of writing or help it?
If I never wrote XYZ-type writing anymore, how would that make me feel?
My Favorites, Lately
Podcast Episode #344 or Kendra Adachi’s “The Lazy Genius Podcast” where she reminds me that reading a book during the day is absolutely acceptable. Encouraged, even.
Joining Local. I’ve been a member of some great writing groups over the last five or so years. But lately, I’ve taken many of my memberships local. One local membership I’ve taken on is Georgia Writers. They’re hosting a live workshop on Jan. 13th all about the latest in publishing. Find out about “Publishing in 2024: Hybrid, Traditional or Self-Publishing” here. As our family embarks on a move soon, I’ll be looking for even narrower local groups to join. Camaraderie in our field is a KEY element in sustainability.
This author quote shared on Instagram by @authorcindyquayle: “After a while, the characters I’m writing begin to feel real to me. That’s when I know I’m heading in the right direction.” -Alice Hoffman
A book recommendation for the 7-12-year-olds in your midst. “Between Monsters and Marvels” is a book for those middle-grade readers in your life who love fantasy, intrigue, and complex problems that can only be solved in a middle-grade writing kind of way. Check out this Alysa Wishingrad book here. You can even listen to an audio clip.
That’s all I’ve got this month. I hope you’ll look into some of these great authors and authorial gifts for the writer in your life.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
Brooke
I’m struggling with my own definition of rest. This was a much needed read.