One thing people love to ask in interviews, especially to writers, is ‘so, what’s your routine?’ I always found this question really intimidating, like it implies we should have a routine, otherwise we’re not a ‘proper’ [insert thing here]. I have therefore been a bit embarrassed about my lack of routine, even though I have always remained quite productive without one. In the past I have even nodded along when people have discussed theirs: why yes, I too have a SOLID morning routine! But I don’t! I never have, I probably never will.
It’s why I wrote The Multi-Hyphen Method, I like having fingers in pies, I like every day being different, I don’t like routines and rules. Things just get done. I don’t know how. But they do. As Taffy Brodesser-Akner writes: “sometimes a little chaos gets things done.” My best ideas do not come from any sense of order or routine. My productivity does not come from micro-managing every ounce of my day.
HOWEVER. One thing 2020 did bring me, was one tiny morsel of a routine — it was impossible not to. We had to at least pretend to have some control over our lives. So therefore, I have leaned into something I call: Temporary Routines. These are routines I have stocked and saved for when shit hits the fan. They are routines I’ve made a note of over the years. Ready-made proven routines (bespoke to me) that just work.
My temporary routine right now, during Covid times, is this:
— First thing: a cup of tea, no phone-checking. — Back into bed, with cup of tea, I get my notepad out from my bedside table and lose myself in Julia Cameron’s morning pages (three-pages of long-hand writing.) Gets the gunk out of your head. All the little niggling worries. Down on paper. My handwriting is awful these days, but improving. — I have started using my beloved Pomodoro timer again to help me write for 25 minutes at a time (away from doom-scrolling or BBC news). I get all my work done in 25 minute stints. — Every day a 90-minute lunch-time walk around my local park (my favourite part of the day). — Three proper breaks throughout the day. The three breaks act as ‘mind meals’ - something I learned from therapist Anna Mathur. Just as you feed yourself food three times a day, feed your brain too (a walk, a chapter of a book, a moment to sit quietly.) — Switch off at 4pm. Laptop OFF, not to be turned back on. — 6pm: I cook slowly, trying out a new recipe, and listen to a podcast.
I have realised the park has become personified. The park has become a person I go and see. The park has been with me every day over the last 10 months of a global pandemic, more consistent than any other thing. It’s part of my ritual now, and it’s always there. When I am about to go insane, it whispers come on, let’s just do one loop around. Just one loop, then see. Someone told me that leaves and trees actually release chemicals that make you feel better. I don’t know if that’s true, but it feels like it. After a few loops, the grass squishing under my muddy trainers, the light shining through the trees, the fresh air filling up my lungs, how can I feel as insane now? I realise I've seen the same trees change colour four times over the past year. I’ve changed too, different haircuts, different moods. Same coat, mind.
During the colder months in the park there has been a deep melancholy in the air. Lonely, saddened people walk, cycle or run around it. The benches were once boarded up with tape saying NO SITTING and still no one really sits. The basketball nets had been taken away again. The kids are still pining for the climbing frames. Parents try to have picnics in the rain. Business owners pace around talking loudly into their airpods. The woman crying on the bench. The dogs, who without knowing, bring any onlookers so much joy. Anything to get out of the house. But we’re all together somehow, even though we roam around separately in our local parks.
I am feeling thankful to the morning writing, the park, the space to think, the people-watching, and the reminder that seasons change. This is my routine for now. Nothing is forever. Everything is temporary.
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