We have one of those overstuffed La-Z Boy style armchairs, purchased at the same time as our couch. Sometimes people think the chair is my husband’s. Those people are wrong. So wrong.
It is MY chair. I insisted on it (my husband just wanted a couch). I sit in that mofo every day. Especially after I get over the weekday morning rush of getting my boys dressed, fed, and out the door.8:30 hits and I’m in the chair, taking my first sips of my now-lukewarm coffee and poking at my iPad while the cat curls up in my lap.
But I recently realized that the chair is not my morning friend. The chair is powerful. The chair is “it’s five o’ clock somewhere”. It is a chair for kicking back in while sipping a Manhattan or for cuddling a kid while watching a Pixar movie. It is the essence of slacking. And if I sit down in it at 8:30, I will still be in it at 10:30. And that’s the time, my time, my only time, so why am I camping out in this chair doing literally nothing?
So I’m starting a new ritual, where I sit down with my lukewarm coffee at the table, in a chair that, while still comfortable, doesn’t allow a horizontal sprawl. And since the switch, I’ve been getting so much more done. More stories out on submission, more edits, more journaling and Steering the Craft exercises. It turns out it wasn’t the iPad that was eating up my morning, it was the fact that I was putting my feet up to look at it.
My cat is less than thrilled.
(But we all know cats are agents of entropy, and also if it weren’t this, he’d find something else to flex dem claws about.)
So if you can’t find time to write, or find yourself frittering away that time, maybe it’s not what you’re doing, but how you’re doing it. Do you come at your writing time with your A game, ready to run down those pages like a hungry wolf? Do you come at it like it’s your job, and you’re the boss? Or do you treat it like a chore, something you’ll get around to doing, just after one more funny video clip?
It’s hard to have Right Thinking if you’re not Right Doing.