Writing Retreat Day 3 – I am back from my walk and settling into another day of just getting it done, plain and simple. There is no doubt I work WAY better like this – immersing myself – concentrating on one thing at a time. (Multitasking is a myth!) And although my “real life” makes this kind of arrangement (hours upon hours of uninterrupted writing) mostly impossible- I’m hoping I can at least cultivate some deeper focus that I can carry home with me- But, for now, I revel in the solitude.
Day 1 down- hunkering down for day 2. I managed to get a fair chunk of work done- even though I had hoped to get a little further ahead. I made the realisation yesterday of just how much I have trained myself to function like I am constantly racing against the clock. This is the case in my ‘real-life’ of course – I ‘only’ have so-many hours until the kids get home, I have to cook dinner, do laundry, pay attention to other humans…But not here- so, what is so surprising is that all of that is still very much present in my body—I had to keep saying out loud; “You have all day! Get up from this chair! Stretch! Eat! It’s OK to look after yourself!” I did swim out to the floating dock in this photo. (I took a pool noodle with me for safety as per my ol’ man’s instruction). It was glorious. Refreshing. I’m going to do it again today.
Writing retreat on the eve of day one. The family has just left and I am setting up my workspace before I head to bed so it is all ready for me when I wake. The plan is to write/edit my derrière off for 4 days with appropriate breaks for swimming, yoga, meditation, walks on country roads, reading and eating (not necessarily in that order). All this with limited human interaction. Bring it on!
I’ve finally managed to get a bit of a running practice/groove going on here. It has been 10 years since I ran a marathon— (it appears that I am still wearing the same running shoes!) and although I have only ever run the one (there were a few half-marathons in the year or two before and after ‘the one’) despite wanting to, because of a myriad of reasons (moving to a city that is a frozen tundra for 6 months of the year, tearing a hamstring in a supermarket fall, starting and trying to finish a PhD etc… etc…) I have not been able to get back to running regularly, never mind train for a marathon.
Before I go on, let me just make this clear; ‘running’ for me is a very broad term– I define it here, for the purpose of this blog post as; “sufficiently moving my body in such a way that may resemble shuffling or walking, yet which results in my face turning beet-red and me breaking a sweat.”
I have been using a “>Couch to 5K app – Every morning a disembodied voice greets me at 5:15 am with a cheerful (no, make that creepy) “Hey awesome runner!” and then, throughout the next 35 minutes instructs me when to walk or run and adds further peppy comments like “Great! You’re doing it!” (No sh*t-Sherlock – you think I’d be listening to you if I wasn’t out here plodding along the deserted streets at dawn?!) I tolerate her banter only because it keeps me honest. I’m good at following instructions and I fear that if I was left to my own devices I’d give up and walk more than, run.
I have to say, I am really, really happy to back at it. Over the winter I was desperately trying to find an exercise regime that made me feel everything that running does for me, energized, raring to go and mentally clear. But, despite sticking to a gym-based routine that included time on the elliptical machine and weights it always felt like a chore. I have been faithful to my daily home yoga practice (inspired very much by the book Yoga at Home that I return to again and again) but desperately knew I needed more. And, I have to admit being outside, after a looooong hard winter in which I was I was sick a lot… colds, hacking-persistent coughs, fevers and even a pneumonia diagnosis at one point. I am just so happy to be outdoors. Plodding along.
Early morning is my absolute favourite time. I love the nearly deserted streets. I nod to the few other runners I encounter on my way (and pick up my pace to save face when they come into view) and feel total respect for all those on the first bus of the morning (already standing room only). I keep only one ear bud in so I can hear my creepy-disembodied running coach chirp her commands and inspirational catchphrases (“You’re almost there! Keep going!”) But my other ear is tuned to the morning birdsong — for me, the best kind of inspirational catchphrases.
Besides the beet-red face and sweat, running both clears my mind and gets the ideas flowing in a way that nothing else seems to be able for me. Most mornings, part ways into my run, I am fumbling to record a voice memo on my phone (temporarily silencing Suzy Slogan the running coach) while mid-stride because I have an idea for a artistic project, or (on the best days) a few words come together that help bridge something I have been mentally sweating over in my PhD thesis revisions. Sometimes I try and make it home and go straight for my notebook when I walk in the door to scribble down some notes that may or may not be indecipherable by noon, but, never mind- I am already in slightly giddy from the feeling that the creative juices are flowing all before 6am.
Some mornings, along my route I look for ‘signs’- clues, or prompts that may get me going… thinking beyond my research and my own little mental bubble.
I have been running past this car ever since I started back running six weeks or so ago. Each day I would try to come up with different signs it offered me. Abandoned car, (vehicle, machinery, transportation) multiple parking tickets (violations, fines…) AND (it’s hard to see in the photo) but hanging from the rear view mirror (LOOKING BEHIND? BACK?) is a dream catcher (!) I took the photo a week ago– just because it was inspiring so many ideas. But, today the car was gone.
So, I will continue my early morning shuffles. Searching for more clues.
“I am just finishing up my PhD” is a term I used frequently these days. It happens mostly when people ask what I have been up to or, in the situations when I am meeting people for the first time as a means of telling them what I do. For those I am meeting for the first time it does the trick— but for friends and family who ask it is always fraught with a bit of “Oh! You’re still doing THAT?!”
Yep. Still at it. And I will sometimes go on to explain revisions and resubmissions and sometimes just leave it at that. Still at it.
Dani Shapiro writes in her book; Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life “When writers who are just starting out ask me when it gets easier, my answer is never. It never gets easier.” And I would argue that it is the same in a PhD journey. While I acknowledge that I have grown in so many ways, gained heaps of knowledge and will almost, kinda, sorta now claim to be an almost expert in my field… it most certainly has not gotten easier and in fact, I believe it has gotten harder in that ‘the more you know the more you know you don’t know’
As a split location International student (this means my school is on one continent and I live on another) I am not around people who are also PhD students much.
It is lonely. And even to the few other PhD candidates or recent grads I come across here, explaining what I do can be complicated as the UK and North American systems differ widely. Add the fact that I am doing a practice-based PhD something which can be a thing of mystery to even other students in the UK system, and it gets even more complicated trying to explain myself.
We can all agree, however, that it is hard. And, I am sure we can all agree that it will feel SO good when it is OVER.
But in the meantime… Yep. Still at it.
I am sharing academic writing specialist Jo VanEvery’s newsletter here; It struck a chord with me because in it she talks about Brené Brown’s book //ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ac&ref=qf_sp_asin_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=mamalegato-20&marketplace=amazon®ion=US&placement=1592408419&asins=1592408419&linkId=bc5ebb4a1529736950a0377df1dc6eb6&show_border=false&link_opens_in_new_window=false&price_color=333333&title_color=0066c0&bg_color=ffffff“>Daring Greatly; Brown’s work centres around shame, vulnerability and failure all of which I having been pondering quite deeply lately. I’ve read some of Brown’s work previously, yet,I admit to … Continue reading “It’s a sign”
I am sharing academic writing specialist Jo VanEvery’s newsletter here.
It struck a chord with me because in it she talks about Brené Brown’s book Daring Greatly
Brown’s work centres around shame, vulnerability and failure all of which I having been pondering quite deeply lately. I’ve read some of Brown’s work previously, yet,I admit to having similar feelings as VanEvery towards these kinds of these celebrity psychologists (but I often end of reading them or at least about them anyways). As VanEvery says; “I’m glad I’ve decided to read her work though. What she says about shame, vulnerability, and innovation is directly relevant to academic life”- I haven’t read Daring Greatly but I can say for certain this is what I am finding as I read another of Brown’s books, Strong; The Reckoning. The Rumble. The Revolution.
I have definitely been having my own reckoning over the last while — around my research, my PhD, my LIFE… and I will inevitably get around to sharing some of that soon. As it stands, it exists mostly in the frantic scribbles of my journal and the frenetic corners of my mind– But! as someone who pays attention to “signs”, sent from the universe, or otherwise, VanEvery’s newsletter showing up in my inbox today, for me, surely was a sign.
4 days and a 40,000 word PhD thesis to write… Totally do-able right??
Of course, I am not starting from scratch- I’ve got about 30,000 words in a very messy, chaotic mess of a draft… I’m hoping being here (looks pretty ideal, right?) Will just push me over the “get this sucker done” huge wall that seems to be standing in my way.
Wish me luck.