Routine Gratitude

So often over the last year I have grateful for the routines that I established in March of 2023.

By the time things got difficult, they were already part of the landscape of my day.

When things got off track, I could follow my routines and then get myself in gear, at least a little.

This isn’t (and wasn’t) about the need to ‘get things done’ or the need to be productive, it was about feeling like my day had some substance, like I had some traction, like there were some fixed points.

I have spent entirely too much of my life going to bed feeling exhausted from ricocheting through my day but having no idea how I spent my time.

(ADHD can be a jerk like that)

And anything that gives me some relief from that feeling – like routines of journaling and drawing, for instance- can make all the difference.

Another day, another monster

A drawing of a monster with a pointy head, a a large eye, and wings.
A drawing of a monster, coloured with marker. This monster has a purple head that has 9 points like an elaborate star. It has one large eye with an orange eyelid and it has two blue teeth one on top and one on bottom between two points on its head. The monster has tiny orange arms, a large green body and orange wings.

Trying to shift my approach

One of my big work/executive function challenges is learning to see projects as things to work on over time rather than things to do in one fell swoop.

There are advantages to cramming some projects all into one day – I am an expert at identifying the ‘1 day version’ of something – but it can also be a very frustrating way to work.

If left to its own devices, my brain sees a deadline as the only important date for a project. It thinks that the deadline is both for starting and finishing and it refuses to break the project into smaller parts to start earlier.

Medication and practice has helped me to have a more reasonable and less frustrating approach to my work but I still have to work hard to get things started earlier.

However, I would often start a project and do a few things, return to it in a low-key way now and then and then end up leaving the bulk of the project for the deadline date. It’s really hard to trust that the little pieces are anything but busywork, that they will add up to a completed project.

However, since starting to use Todoist last year, I have been having more success with breaking my projects down.

This is, in part, because I can assign a day to get started and, when that day arrives, I can assess whether the first task I have decided to do is actually something that I can finish in one day. If it isn’t, then I can create subtasks, schedule one of those for today, and reschedule the rest.

Technically, I can do the same on paper or in my calendar but something about the Todoist system makes it feel sensible and productive instead of like I messed up (again!)

And it is also due, in part, to the fact that my brain is starting to slowly believe that working on things gets them done. I know that sounds painfully obvious but, previous to the last few years, my brain would only recognize two states for a project – done or not done.

There was no room for ‘in progress.’

So, if I couldn’t move my project from ‘not done’ to ‘done’ today then there was no point in starting it at all. (My inability to see how much time a task will take is a big factor here!)

Even neurotypical people will recognize this kind of issue. Perhaps you don’t start to paint that room because you would only have time to paint one section and you would prefer to leave the setting up until you have time to do most of the room at once.

That’s a logical application of this approach – but I would do that for almost everything.

It’s good for projects like painting but it makes no sense for something like writing a report. You can do that it bits and pieces, no problem!

A few years ago, I started trying to work on things bit by bit, writing ‘work on project A’ on my list instead of ‘do project A‘ and it has been really helpful.

Ideally, I would have my project all broken down and be able to say ‘work on task 2 for project A’ but I have to work with my brain instead of against it. So if my brain won’t break the project down when I am making my schedule, I just go with the ‘work on project A’ version and I make changes and get more specific when the time for that task arrives.

It’s slow progress but it’s happening.

Suspect for the evening

I have a theatre group that does mystery games events and tonight we were performing at a local library.

It’s always so fun to take on a role and try to keep all the facts straight and to respond to questions from audience members in a way that adds to the narrative.

The challenge is to do all of that while trying not to look suspicious.

A GIF from the TV show Parks and Recreation showing two characters in flamboyant clothing walking oddly through a graveyard while singing ‘Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.’

There’s an art to it all and I have a great time exploring different approaches to that art.

And I enjoy seeing how the other actors play with that same process.

Committed to Hope

Sometimes it is to my detriment* but I live in hope.

I am able to hope for improvement in even the most dire situations.

And every time I see spring flowers poking up through the grass, I’m reminded of my commitment to hopefulness.

I saw these on my walk yesterday and had a burst of hopefulness.

Small blue flowers poking up on a spring lawn.
Image description: small blue flowers that Google tells me are Gentian (?) growing amidst winter-browned grass that is starting to show some green.

*How can hope be to my detriment? When I hope instead of taking action. When I assume things will get better on their own. When I miss the opportunity to stop/change direction on something and keep working on something that would be best left alone. It doesn’t happen often but it does happen.