When I read Duncan Cross’s prompt for the latest edition of the Patients For A Moments blog carnival, which asks how we recharge, I was sitting in my home office. Stacks of bills and paperwork that needed to be filed took up most of the desk space. An assortment of mail, cards, and other mementos took up residence on top of the filing cabinet, patiently waiting to be stored more permanently. Folders filled with journal articles and research piled up in leaning towers on the floor, competing with books I need to read and review, files to read through for my teaching and research projects, and various stickers and drawings from my trusty little assistant.
In short, my home office reflected the state of my life the past several months—exciting and productive but incredibly intense and long, too. (Teaching an overload (4 courses), managing the pre-launch book tour and subsequent book tour, doing in-person book events and interviews, freelancing, helping out with care before and after my father’s transplant, etc.)
Having all these very big things happen all at once equals a lot of emotion, a lot of responsibilities, and very little sleep. My husband works weekends, too, and with some juggling the two of us we kept up with the basics: laundry, weekly cleaning (dusting/vacuuming/scrubbing), cooking, etc.
But the long-term stuff? The filing, the organizing of pantry and shelves, the sorting through drawers, the de-cluttering and boxing up of old toys and games? All that stuff slipped to the wayside. We were just trying to keep up with the everyday stuff; filing paperwork was just not a priority.
This all goes back to the central question Duncan Cross asks—what do we do to recharge when we are run down? After reading it, I ignored the looming deadlines, closed down my laptop, and spent some time organizing my office. The desktop was pristine. Each scrap of paper had its rightful folder. Each stack of folders had its rightful drawer. I felt a little less burnt out and frazzled.
For a moment, I debated sitting back down and tackling the deadlines, but something in me just couldn’t. I’d done that at the expense of so much for so long.
So then came clearing out all our drawers and closets, then the intense dusting behind and underneath the furniture, and I felt even less burnt out and frazzled. Then came the whole downstairs, too. A couple hours later, I flopped down on the couch, wheezy and exhausted, but it was the first time in so long I felt settled. Even though I was incredibly sleep deprived and getting over a sinus infection, I felt so energized.
While the examples are not always so extreme and time-consuming, I realized after the fact that putting my life into order in the midst of chaos is something that always makes me feel a little better. Even something as small as writing out a To Do list has the power to both calm and recharge me when I am a hospital patient and I am physically unable to make order out of the chaos.
After a 14-hour stint at the hospital the day of my father’s transplant, my husband made sure the house was clean and organized before I got home, because he knew it would make me feel better to have things orderly when I was in such an emotional state.
My office is now a sunny, neat place to get work done, instead of a omnipresent reminder of how frenzied the past few months have been, and putting more order back into the household makes me feel like I have more control over my life in general.
How do you recharge? What do you do when life and stress and illness start to spiral?