The best time to do anything
is when you feel up to it.
One night last week I was about to get in the shower when I thought, “You know what would be so nice, if I washed the tub before I took a shower. It won’t take long, I can do it now.” I scrubbed the tub, and once I had done that, the rest of the bathroom seemed easy, and the other bathroom too. I cleaned both bathrooms and then finally, I took my shower.
I won’t tell you how long I had been thinking the bathrooms needed to be cleaned before I finally did it. I can tell you that the best time to do it was when I felt up to it. It was on my to do list, it had crossed my mind, and I had verbally stated I would do it. None of that made me do it previously. It just struck me in that moment that it seemed possible, and I followed that.
When it comes to creative process, I often work with clients and students to think about their habits and attempt to guide them towards routines. On the other hand, I don’t think anyone can live each day or week the same way forever and I know that rebellion, impulse, and nonlinear systems rule us too. This can work in our favor, but we have to listen. Notice when you feel capable of doing the chore you don’t want to do, when writing sounds like a good idea, when drawing or dancing or building seems doable. Notice and don’t question, notice and follow, notice and say yes.
Speaking of noticing, I’m reading Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing which despite the name is actually about focus and observation and considers life in the “Attention Economy” where our attention is for sale. Odell asks us to take back control of our attention (from social media etc.) in favor of knowing our neighbors, knowing our bioregions, and more. One avenue for this is perception. In discussion of a film that makes her sense things differently she says, “It has to do with how endlessly strange reality is when we look at it rather than through it.”
While living in our differently named states of quarantine, attempting to notice more is an astute challenge and perhaps a useful antidote to days and weeks that look oddly alike, that aren’t differentiated by the mile markers we are used to.
Here’s a few sources of amusement, insight, potential to shift your attention.
Do you know the name of the bird you hear in the morning or the tree you walk past on your loop around the block? iNaturalist is an app that helps you identify plants and animals. You take photos of things you observe and it can offer suggestions about what you’ve seen. Don’t worry if you mislabel something — another citizen scientist will likely correct you on the variety (I’ve been there!). This week I learned loquat and bottlebrush.
Have you ever played with sound? I’m in love with Audio Playground, a weekly-ish accessible audio assignment by Sarah Geis. Subscribe and you’ll get short and fun audio assignments in your inbox. You can record right on your phone, no know-how necessary, and if you share your results with Sarah, she’ll post your creation on the website along with everyone else’s. I completed my first one from audio recorded in February — a weather report (shoutout to Juliet my co-creator/remember hiking with friends?).
Finally, if you feel antsy, depressed, or like you’re doing nothing and you wish you could do more, I found some light in this episode of the podcast The Hilarious World of Depression. From a recovery/AA perspective on life in quarantine in which staying home is a meaningful choice you make each day, to the ridiculous habit of driving back and forth to LAX just because it’s now possible, I recommend.
