One of the things that I’ve truly “gotten” on my hiatus is that I have not allowed myself enough down-time and really need some quality unplugging. No computer, no tv, getting back to a spare, but rich, non-tech lifestyle. Accordingly, for the entire month of April, but for the master class in ETHOS I’m doing for Adela Rubio:
http://selfcaremastery.com/maryam
and a radio interview I’m doing for Connecting Women, I will be completely offline AND off email – our offices, help desk and all connection outlets will be closed.
I’d like to share a lesson from this that I have learned as it will be beneficial for anyone to think about. That is, we have many yardsticks in our lives – many ways of measuring the shoulds and musts. And though we may have come to the point of removing the words “should” and “must” from our vocabulary, those very ideas exist in our molecular structure as strong encodings.
In my case, the coding was around “I *should* be able to rest from a week of work in the two days of the weekend and be okay” and “I *should* be able to work during the day from 9-5 as others do”.
But my system is not set up that way – it never has been. I’m an owl, not a lark. A small percentage of the extremely creative (some call them “renaissance people”) have biorhythms that predispose them to work at their best, and to high proficiency on a variety of topics, later in the day. Voltaire, DaVinci, Michelangelo, Tesla and Bill Clinton are among those whose bodies also favored a night-owl lifestyle. I work best in the late afternoon and evening, sleep around 6 – 7 hours at most (7 is almost too much and 8 is definitely oversleeping) and usually work on several projects at once by preference. And I need more than two days to be “off” on the weekend.
My long-suffering workhorse parents despaired of me ever being respectable in the sleep department. I happily created in the wee hours, even as a child. Well-meaning though it was, they used every moral imperative to suggest that I was not a righteous person for being a night-owl and if I kept up “these shenanigans” I would not mature into a good upstanding citizen. Mother consulted Reverend Pegues when I was seven over this perceived fault, with the result that I was awakened every morning at 6am without fail to pray and read the Bible before school in the hopes of rehabilitating my wayward biorhythms.
It didn’t work. I slept through third period in school, refusing to be rousted, and stayed up at night until my body told me it was time to sleep. It exasperated Mother no end, but she finally gave up and when she saw that I was doing cool things – nature photography and essays in philosophy at that point. She even briefly catered to my 10pm dinner habit and harbored hopes that I might turn into Imogen Cunningham. No such luck though.
In the intervening years, I’ve found it’s always best to do what my body tells me it needs. When I do that, I am never sick or tired, and am always at my best and sharpest.
Late last year however, though it was a relatively minor thing, I fell prey again to the moralizing of others around my natural biorhythms and tried to be early-to-bed-early-to-rise to join with a group of yoga friends who were all early risers and determined to make me one as well. And I mean, sunrise type early, greeting the day with Surya Namaskar as the sun crested the local Diablo hills.
The result was that I became out of sorts and was tired quite a lot which is very unusual for me. And even though I love writing more than life itself sometimes, computers, Twitter and email began to irritate me severely. These were cardinal signs to me that I was not honoring my body’s needs and was one of the ingredients in my decision to take a hiatus from business in January.
I naievely thought that my break would begin in January, but no, tying up ends so I actually could take a break took well into February. Then a conference came in March with heavy email, Twitter involvement and text messaging before and after, pushing things even further out.
So drop-dead earnest here, April is my month off. Completely away from the computer. Even cellphone. Don’t send me an EM, IM, DM, TxT or Skypee because I’m nailing the keyboard to the desk upside down and locking the mouse in a drawer. Not kidding.
I’m taking this unplugged break both for my own self-care and health, as well as research for an interesting article, or it might even be a book that I am writing. It keeps extending itself so it could well be the next book. <grin> More much later about that though.
The Moral of the Story Is… that there is no moral imperative around what the body needs. Each of us is wonderfully diverse in our unique makeup. We all have slightly to profoundly different needs for food, water, sunshine or darkness, sleep or waking, downtime, romance-time, exercise and alone-time.
That old biblical verse about the plank in your own eye comes to bear here. If someone in your life isn’t configured the same way you are don’t bring your judgements against them. Take care of your own needs and support each other to extreme and joyous acts of self-care, no matter what the hands on the clock say, no matter how different you might be to each others.
Diversity is what makes the world go ’round, be interesting and create genius.
Meanwhile, have a *beautiful* and *joyous* spring!
With Love,
Maryam
Last week I gave a speech to a group of technology workers about workaholism being the standard, not the exception these days. I also shared the statistic that women work longer hours than men do, traditionally in the home and also at outplacement work sites. Remember mom putting in hours on dinner, cleanup and mending or other jobs while you and dad watched tv and hung out? Most moms worked up to bedtime when I was a kid. Work at home COUNTS as "work". We’re seeing this historical tendency transfer into the corporate workplace as well where women are asked to work longer hours and then come home to resume working. Reading a 1980’s women’s magazine, my mother was once heard to mutter "Time for myself? Whatever do they mean by that?" For many women world-wide, little has changed in the past twenty years.
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