I do not think “writing rhythms” are my calling. But here I am writing about them in a series on micro-callings.
Why?
You’ve heard that trustworthy saying that you write whatever you need to hear, right? Well, that’s why.
I’m terrible at rhythms. If you saw my bookshelves (just wait—I’ll show you), you’d know I’m terrible.
I have writing craft books I’ve never read, novels that my reader-y friends keep recommending, and yes, books about all sorts of rhythms. There’s the get-up-earlier one all about setting a morning routine.
There is one about sacred rhythms where I learned to end each day with a psalm. I’ve got a book about how to share rhythms with your kids to give them a better start to this process than you have.
I’ve even got one about Christmas advent rhythms and how to spark wonder in a season that can too easily become glitzy and commercial, far from its intent.
To say I’ve purchased at least $200 worth of books on some kind of rhythm over the last five to seven years is not exaggerating. It’s healing.
Today, I’m writing about the micro-callings we never wanted to be called to take on.
The Micro-Callings Where We Fall Short
Maybe your calling isn’t to write a novel, but it’s to write a letter to your former self or to someone you love but have fallen out of a relationship with.
That’s a small but really tough calling, isn’t it?
Not every micro-calling will be fun or easy. In fact, that’s how I can usually decipher a micro-calling from a wannabe calling. If it’s easy, falls in my wheelhouse perfectly, and rolls off my tongue like melted butter in a skillet, I may be just a tad far off from the real thing.
Usually, I find that micro-callings can be somewhat inconvenient (hello, teen who wants to stay up til midnight talking about the meaning of life when you know you both have to be up in six hours), just shy of imperfect (the one time you wrote about rhythms and knew you didn’t have them “down” in your own life), and a little sideways from what you started out doing (that time I thought I was destined to be a teacher or a missionary or a journalist and ended up full circle doing a mix of all three but not quite what I imagined).
Micro-callings can be hard. I will not add any dollops of whipped cream to our perceptions here.
However, what do we find when we choose to live out of our micro-callings instead of what we think is best?
We find peace that can’t be shaken because we know we’re right on track.
We find confidence in trying something we never thought we’d be doing, and it builds grit, stamina, and courage into us like mortar between bricks.
A Rhythm You Can Steal
So I wanted this post to give you permission. Permission to do something you’re told again and again in life never to do—steal.
I want you to steal my courage.
Steal my rhythm (if it will work for you).
Steal my courage (from trying something new).
Steal my sticktoitiveness (to keep from quitting long-term).
Steal my encouragement (to remind yourself who you really are).
Go ahead, steal.
One rhythm I’ve developed lately is writing and cooking in bulk. I realized that many “problems” I have in life can be solved by how I tackle other issues.
For example, I face the same issue every school year when it’s time to round up the Teenagers Who Eat Like the World Is Ending and figure out dinner + lunch + snacks (why-do-they-need-so-many-snacks?). I need to find food that will feed them, provide nutrition (at least sometimes) and not lead me one step closer to the grave because I’ve spent all day every day in a hot kitchen.
(Also, why is it that we go back to school at the beginning of August when it’s 100 degrees outside? I like the rhythm that some of my overseas friends get—a rhythm of going back to school at the start of the calendar year. Makes sense, right? You don’t need to buy a “special” calendar, AND you can wear appropriate shoes and a moderate amount of clothing back to school. You also don’t sweat your you-know-what-off just walking back from the bus stop.)
I digress. Where was I?
Oh yeah, the issue here is that I needed to feed people, and a lot. So I started batch cooking. It started with one dinner.
I’d cook a double batch of something I knew my kids liked. We’re currently on a chicken shawarma kick thanks to my friend Jenny, a recipe hold-over since late spring. Next, I moved on to making a breakfast casserole that the teenagers could eat whenever they got hungry. Breakfast, snack, who knows? It works for either. Or both.
Now, I’ve moved on to cooking two to three batch meals a week, which basically sums up five dinners weekly. We usually intersperse those with one dinner out and a DIY dinner: sandwiches, leftovers, or a charcuterie board. (I told you we are serious about our food, didn’t I? Not playing here.)
When I started to approach this series on writing rhythms, I realized that the rhythm developed over time because it needed to develop in me.
If you had asked me to start batch cooking every weekend, I’d have said a hard pass, not true, no way, I’m not giving up my Saturdays for that.
But as it happened, I fell into the idea slowly. As I became more accustomed to not cooking so often, I became more comfortable with batch cooking one to two times a week, and I’ve even subscribed to freezer slow cooking. (Usually, I cook one batch meal mid-week and one batch meal on the weekends.)
So with writing, I decided to apply this same principle.
When and what could I batch write?
I first tried at my day job. I write several articles for clients every month, and once I get into writing one article, the idea for another article brews.
So I’m much better at writing in batches. I write two to three times a month a new batch of articles I can submit to clients. It works better for me than writing when an idea strikes me or forcing myself to write a few times each week for the same client.
I’ve even applied it to this series. I wrote the first one a couple of weeks ago, and then I had the idea for the second one, the third one and the podcast all the same day.
So I sat down and wrote it all out, recorded the podcast and went onto the next thing.
Rhythms That Make Us
Here’s what I don’t want you to read: She has it all together.
I do not.
I have yet to find a laundry rhythm that I can actually stick to.
I don’t have a great rhythm for keeping in touch with family and friends regularly or getting my kids to do chores every day.
So, let’s not throw me under the bus just yet.
What do I want you to know?
Your rhythms, much like mine, will make you, and not the other way around.
While we think we put our rhythms in place, what often unfolds over time is a rhythm before we’ve had a chance to plan it all out.
Before we know it, we’re eating oatmeal every day. It is quick, easy, and highly customizable based on what’s in the fridge.
Or after just a few short walks to the bus stop, we find that we love walking in the morning before it’s too hot, and our dog has quickly warmed to the idea of starting her day out among the neighborhood’s people (and dogs).
So, tell me: What rhythms are making you this week?
Also, as I was researching this post, I came across this incredible reader-recommended resource that I know you’ll flip over. Grab it and find something new to share with your creative friends. (If you read it before I write about it here, please send me a note to let me know how you applied it to your writing life.)
Sneak Peek
My last in the series, about celebrations and what we value, is coming up. Here’s a sneak peek:
and…