Scene setting: Sunday, 6:23 am, white, middle-aged woman with white hair on her temples, sitting on white couch in navy blue yoga leggings, slightly worn out in the upper mid-thigh area, handmade brown ceramic mug in hand filled with ½ caff-coffee and cream sits down to write her weekly newsletter. It is still dark outside her window, she looks out the window anyways to see if her guide, her wild owl, is perched on its tree branch. She only sees black shapes against white snow, nothing reliable. Her teenage son is sleeping in the room above her, and her alarm is reset so she can feed the pets at her husband's studio before driving to yoga. She must remember she is picking her husband up from the airport after yoga and meeting a company specialist later in the day. She must remember to think about her son's breakfast and have normal clothes to change into after yoga. She must remember to brush her teeth and that the car is on an empty tank. She begins writing. The alarm goes off and off she goes with a piece of banana bread she baked the night before to bring to her travel-weary husband. She will hopefully return to her newsletter in the afternoon before her work meeting.
This week was a swirly one. My schedule was thrown into the air like a game of pick-up sticks, leaving me nimbly navigating between the holiday weekend, partner traveling, solo parenting, snow days, emergent work situations, and previously scheduled appointments. All the extra driving, homemaking, and work meetings made it impossible to do it all, meaning all the "extra things" that I hope to do in a week, like ceramics, writing, painting, yoga, and spending time alone in nature.
These "extra things" are most likely considered such because they have always been instructed as "extracurricular," and my life continues to follow that well-grooved program. A system of miseducation that told us we needed Calculus more than we needed Mythology (insert eye rolling laugh here, then a little tear rolling out of the eye).
Back to my pick-up stick schedule. As I look ahead to this coming week, I am aware of shifts in my weekly plan due to a need to support personnel. I hear an internal chorus of parts saying disparaging things: "Look how willy-nilly you always are! You won't be able to do all the things you said you would! You are so disappointing." These are the same internal parts of myself that also take responsibility for other people's feelings and even the weather. For example, this past week, I heard one of them say to me: "If you cancel programming due to the snow, everyone will be disappointed and angry at you." (insert nail biting dysregulated nervous system wondering if people will be less angry driving through perilous weather or canceled programming)
Back to my pick-up stick schedule. I used to imagine that financial budgets were rules you set and then had to follow precisely ("Or you are very bad!" Said an internal part). I felt an unbearable pressure around personal financial management for fear that I would get it wrong. Therefore, it was easier mentally to not see my earnings or spending and not create budgets. However, I was still budgeting and managing my finances. I was doing it blindly. Years ago, I met with someone to review my personal finances, and they shared an eye-opening perspective; they helped me see that despite not having a regular income, despite not knowing how much I was earning or spending, I was still paying bills and was not in debt which meant that I was intuitively budgeting my resources. They kindly explained that I would gain access to more strategic planning by putting light on my number story. That is all budgets are: a strategic plan based on a hopeful narrative. The purpose of a budget is to provide a guide or map for an ideal imagined outcome that will act as a living document, meaning it will be in a natural state of change because life is change.
Over the last five years, I have had to work on creating and managing large and complex budgets for the non-profit I run. Initially, I balked at this responsibility and tried to assign it to colleagues I imagined knew how to do organizational budgeting and had long held senior leadership positions. I quickly learned they did not know how to do budgets, and the next move was for me to draft one. (Insert: I have partaken in three entrepreneurship fellowships where traditional budgets were taught, and yet I felt incapable, a troubling puzzle which points towards something fishy about the way we are taught or not taught about money management.)
In the process of creating our organizational budget and being in dialogue with many people about it (Board, Funder, Staff, Accountants) I learned that a budget is a story outline. It is a shared dream which is different from reality. In reality, shit hits the fan every week, and you need to adapt and respond to life's surprises. Sometimes, budgets are thrown off course, and entirely new ones must be drafted. Sometimes, I wonder how budgets help, knowing they are constantly changing. I believe it's because their intention provides confident direction. This is the same as a personal schedule.
Back to my pick-up stick schedule. My schedule is a strategy towards a feel-good-works-well daily and future life. When life gets messy and my days have to pivot, a few choices must be made. Parts of me say, "Don't bother trying to do the extras!" and other parts say, "You can't manage everything, give up the day job," or another says, "Just work harder, stay up later, do it all! You said you would, so do it and suffer through it". But, there are still other choices that trust my intention. Choices that consider the purpose behind my schedule. Those other choices zoom out and move buckets of time around to accommodate the extras differently than planned. They revisit expectations around time. They apply kindness towards myself and not take responsibility for what is outside my control.
I am writing about these schedule shenanigans because I am writing Sunday Circle again on Sunday afternoon. Ideally, Sunday Circle is written before the weekend. Ideally, I have Fridays free of hindrance. Ideally, all my internal parts are cheerleaders versus a gaggle of mean girls. Ideals are ideals and not intentions. Intentions enable my willingness to write Sunday Circle, even though it's Sunday afternoon. It is less important the time of day Sunday Circle is sent; it is even less important what it is about; for me, staying connected to the practice of writing and sharing my ideas with the community is essential. That is the intention of Sunday Circle.
Please wish me luck that I find a way to play with the extras this week as I sail into Monday with an adjusted schedule. I’m wishing you good luck navigating your dreams this week!
Scene setting: Sunday, 2:10pm, woman is dressed in the same outfit she wore on Saturday. She is sitting on her white couch with a large to-go coffee she picked up on her way home from picking her husband up from the airport. She finishes spell checking her newsletter. She is terrible at her placement of commas. Her alarm goes off, she sends her newsletter off, and off she goes to her afternoon meeting after brushing her teeth for the second time that day. The owl is sitting on its branch. She says, “Hello beautiful”.
relatable and so, thank you.