The Importance of Sitting and Staring

A while back it occurred to me that my days needed some organization.

I sat down with pen and paper, ruler and colored pencils, and drew my week. I listed when I get up, and when I go to bed, and then I listed everything in between through each day of the week. I blocked out the hours and colored in the blocks. Classes were one color, rehearsals another, meals, writing, and guitar practice had their separate colors, and so on. I even scheduled half an hour a day for tidying, so I would have a specific time to do the dishes, laundry, sweeping, and vacuuming. I noted when my grandson left for school and when he came home and what days he had activities after school and when he went to his other grandmother’s for the night.

When I was done I had a colorful page with a lot of writing and blocks of time mapped out. I looked at it and thought, wow, no wonder I feel overwhelmed. I had not realized how busy my schedule is. Now, though, the patterns of my days were visible, and I had a plan for each day that I could follow and thereby save myself from a lot of fussing about what to do next or when to do it.

I followed the schedule conscientiously for exactly one day. Boy, did things get done. I felt righteous.

The second day I did not adhere so closely to the schedule. As you might have guessed, tidying was the first thing to go.
Soon I realized that my life is not geared for a tight schedule. Stuff happens. I must deal with situations that arise. My grandson has health issues which sometimes require immediate attention. I have my own odd appointments as well.
It took about a week to realize that I had written down things to do, but had forgotten to write in some activities which may not look practical or productive. For example, I had only two hours a week sketched out for meeting my sister-from-another-mother Becky at Granny’s and having coffee or tea afterward. That block had the annotation: “Social life. Ha ha ha.”

The greatest oversight, though, was that there were no color blocks for sitting and staring.

How do you schedule sitting and staring? Sitting and staring is something I do every day. I don’t plan it. It happens. My favorite sitting and staring spot is the kitchen porch, when I can watch the squirrels dancing through the forest canopy, and the birds harassing one another at the bird feeder. While I stare the dog roams around the yard attending to her outdoor duties, woofing at various passersby of two- or four-legged persuasions. Sometimes the cat sits with me and watches all those critters he can’t kill right that minute.

Those are good times, out on the porch, and now that the weather is improving I’m getting more of those sessions. I’m even walking around the yard looking at the plants, pulling weeds, and marveling at how many things wintered over that weren’t supposed to: nasturtiums, for heaven’s sake, and fuchsias.

While I sit and stare sometimes I pray, or marvel at the world going on around me, but mostly I’m thinking. I think about people, situations, how I’m going to get by on Social Security, how much I miss Rick, what to write for my next column, or whatever fresh hell has lately presented itself.

Sitting and staring does not look like I’m doing anything, but it is rejuvenating, and I couldn’t write essays or songs without it.

I still check my schedule. I like the colors.

For the moment I’m back to playing life by ear, mostly, riffing on whatever is the rhythm and melody of the moment.
It’s not for everyone, but it works for me.