After an ordinary week full of sniffles, this week has been a little less dramatic on the sneeze-front and it’s just what I needed. In a delightful turn of events for a Wednesday, my local pharmacy shouted everyone to a free coffee at the cafe so of course I wandered down there to pick up a latte. The mood was most definitely cheerful and it reminded me what we all know to be true: a small act of kindness is always worthwhile (even if it is funded by pharmaceuticals).
And now here we are, hurtling towards the end of the year it seems. If you’ve recently thought to yourself: gosh, I wish time would slow down a bit, you’re definitely not alone. The collective pace is picking up and I’ve got be so conscious of stepping back every now and then so I don’t get swept up.
I know I write about living simply and leaning into the slow but that doesn’t mean my days are always gentle and meandering. While I definitely ‘wintered’ this year and spent the past few months in and around home, the next nine months are quite busy, including a few trips to the mainland, two big writing projects, audiobook recording (why did I write so many words?!) and book publication and promotion.
I try not to think too far ahead but there’s also a fine line between living in the present and feeling somewhat organised and prepared for the months to come, especially when work and family life intertwine. I’d rather venture into this busy life season knowing where the gaps are and being very intentional with them.
What I do know about busy seasons - whatever they may be - is that simple habits are crucial. All this forethought has made me focus more intentionally on the week-by-week, too. And so, here’s three habits that are serving me well, two lessons I’ve learnt and one reminder as you venture into a new week:
Three habits
writing as soon as I wake. I’m still setting the alarm for 5:45am three mornings a week (sometimes four) and it still my most productive writing time. I think it’s got something to do with the fact that I haven’t quite ‘woken’ yet and subsequently I write a little looser; there aren’t so many constraints because I’m not in questioning critique mode. Sometimes the words flow and at other times they spill slowly. But there’s always a sense that I’ve got words on the page or untangled some sort of narrative problem by 7am and that sets me up for the day. It’s also particularly comforting if nothing else gets done.
walking to notice. And to run the dog on the beach but also, to actively step away from the work of the home and be by the sea where no-one needs me and I can wander at whatever pace I like. It’s warm enough now to take my shoes off and walk barefoot and because my beach is often rugged, seaweed, driftwood and thousands of rocks and pebbles flung across the sand by the rising tide, it requires a certain level of concentrated attention. With each step I noticing the weed and the limpets and the footprints of the gulls. I stop every now and then and look out to the horizon and it’s this panoramic gaze that can, I’ve learnt, switch off the stress response.
seeking the sun. My limbs have been covered in many layers of cotton and wool since April so now that the spring sun is here and our daylight hours are lengthening, I’m purposefully sitting outside with bare arms and legs in the hope that I soak in some vitamin D. All Tasmanians are encouraged to take supplements through winter but there’s nothing quite like sun on your bare skin to make you feel energised and open to the world.
Two lessons
not everyone is my reader. This week The Guardian published my opinion piece on libraries as the last of our community centres. Familiar? Yes, I published a longer version here on substack a few months ago. It was slightly sentimental but overall, a discussion about the benefits of libraries for us all and a gentle nudge to utilise them. Each borrow is logged and I know in some states, borrows inform budgets. But also, in a cost of living crisis, libraries are vital hubs for life admin and everyday conversation and connection.
In my blissful ignorance, I presumed there would be no feathers ruffled but of course, anything you publish online is open to interpretation and let’s just say that there were negative, snarky remarks and a few pointed fingers. ‘Don’t read the comments’ is all well and good, but sometimes it’s a reminder that no matter what you put out in the world, someone won’t like it - and that’s okay! Now, whenever someone responds negatively to something I’ve written I’ll just remember that people can get cranky about libraries. Libraries! Can you even imagine?!
rest is an antidote and a preventative. There have been many days over the past few weeks when I think I may be coming down with something and instead of ignoring these tiny hints and pushing through, I’ve just rested. It’s taken me years to listen in, take note and act accordingly but it’s a really good way to live, I’ve discovered.
One reminder
a handwritten list can be both ritualistic and pragmatically helpful. For the past few months I’ve carved out time on a Sunday to write a master list for the week including a meal plan, groceries needed, appointments to attend, phone calls to make, work to do. You know, all the things. It only takes about twenty minutes but it goes a long way to helping me feeling prepared. Of course, you can make it extra cosy with the addition of a cup of something nice, maybe a slice of cake and if you’re feeling particularly settled, you could light a candle.
Most days I’ll refer back to it, making small adjustments and ticking off whatever I’ve managed to do. By the following Sunday the paper is messy but it helps the day to day feel a little more controlled, and that’s most definitely helpful. I know there’s a slew of digital ways to do this but there’s also proven benefits to handwriting, one of which is a brain dump on paper to minimise the overwhelm of the mental load.
other things
over on
I’m asking one question: how are you?Tell me Everything was precisely what I hoped it would be.
Oh, Maggie
I absolutely can’t wait to read The Wedding People (there’s been endless glowing reviews)
I’m currently reading Evie Wyld’s The Echoes and it’s so strange because I don’t care at all for the characters or their story but I also can’t stop reading. This is testament to superb writing, I think. I’m also a bit confused…
this beef stew is currently cooking
Till next time, take care x
I'd feel lost without my local library — quiet breastfeeding corners, book reserve messages and kind librarians. Such a timely read to reaffirm slow + steady habits, thanks Jodi.
Thanks Jodi, I am reading your letter after returning home from my morning run in the nature reserve with a girlfriend. And oh the sun, how beautiful it was rising with its warm orange glow. Its my favourite ritual a few times a week. Thank you for your gentle reminder and lessons from your life. A lovely way to start the week. Kate x