Sailing Schedule

I’ve been on sort of a ducks-in-a-row, productivity kick lately.

Anyone who knows me will know this is extremely uncharacteristic behavior. I’m the one who lets my license plates expire, forgets to send in the rebate check, and has been known to feed my dog pretzels for dinner when I forget to buy dog food. (Don’t judge me, it was just the one a couple times. Like I said, I don’t do details well.)

Why now? Partly the shiny new year. And my new name, which creates all sorts of cascading logistical hoops for me to jump through. Not to mention the tax disaster-panic every spring is getting old.

But the main impetus is (of course) a little more woo-woo. I just seem to have this feeling of settledness lately. A solid foundation. An overall sense of digging in, like I’m going to be here for a while.

Which, again, is uncharacteristic.

I spent a lot of time believing that there was a huge chasm between being settled down and having madcap spirited adventure. That a choice must be made, and to embrace one was to reject the other. That life was binary.

But tension–if we hold it long enough, if we can allow the discomfort–always creates something new.

The truth is, we can build something without being trapped in it.

We can be held without being smothered.

I want to apply these huge lessons to the way I spend my time.

The thing is, I can’t do structure. Give me a time to be somewhere on a regular basis, and I will throw a fit like you won’t believe, ranting and raging against the space-time-continuum. Of course it will all be internalized anger (also known as my friend depression.) Well either that, or I just won’t show up.

So yeah, structure is out.

At the same time, I can’t do wide-open either. Whenever my schedule is wide open I somehow manage to manufacture a vague sense of clenching dread at all times. This feeling as if I should be doing something, now now now, becomes a constant companion. My to-do list feels like an amorphous ever-present burden, even if most items on it are enjoyable tasks.

So having no structure is a drag on my energy.

Hey, look!

Tension.

I need to build something without being trapped in it.

I need a way to say this, now. On a regular basis. About the little things.

The little things that add up to big, important things I want to get done. (Or at least not have to suffer the consequences of not-doing.)

As I’m writing this I’m looking out the window and I can almost-but-not-quite see Lake Union.

(Total derail: My almost-but-not-quite view of the lake is so way better than a view of the lake. I get to see how the land gently slopes down to the water. I get to see sea planes pass overhead when they come in for a landing. It’s so deliciously there but not there. Seeing the actual water wouldn’t be nearly as dynamic.)

And anyway, it occurs to me that what I want is a sailboat. I want to be surrounded by the water and air, complete freedom. I want to be in a simple but reliable machine. One that is deeply in tune with the rhythms of nature. One that can easily and efficiently correct course when I direct it to.

So, that’s what I’m working on lately.

I’m building my schedule sailboat.