Why I would like the way I work to be more like the way I garden

Recently I’ve been pottering in my garden most days. I’ve had a month when my health has been particularly poor and I’ve hardly left the side of my hill, but what I have been using my limited energy for has been writing, drawing and pottering.

Enjoying pottering

I’ve realised I’ve been enjoying the pottering. Enjoying it a lot (North American friends may know the idea of pottering as puttering).

I get a lot of pleasure from my writing and drawing, and I’m delighted that my online life brings in an income that sustains me, but nonetheless it often feels like “work”.

It can be easy to let our work rhythms become out of step with the ebb and flow of our energy

As much as I try not to push myself I do feel there is a certain expectation out in the world (maybe I’ve made that up of course!) that at least nudges me to produce a couple of blog posts a week, write my fortnightly microMag & my fortnightly subscription newsletter and hunt for interesting things to post to Twitter. To do that I feel like I need to create a certain structure to work within and I find that that structure is often at odds with the ebb and flow of my energy levels (especially at times like these when it seems to be doing much more ebbing than flowing!).

Working without expectations

In contrast I’ve been noticing how I garden. I have no expectations of myself when it comes to gardening (probably because I haven’t been doing it for very long!), and therefore no structure that I feel I need to work within. I haven’t written myself any timetables or to-do lists, instead I wander about, think of something I would like to do and do it.

The garden seems to be progressing nicely. Seeds germinating, broad beans heading up their stakes, gooseberries swelling and strawberries flowering. It occurs to me how lovely it would be if I could replicate this casual, hurried (but nonetheless productive) rhythm in my working life too.

Trying to adopt a gentler, more casual work rhythm

Is it possible to potter around Twitter? Gently sow seeds online to help book sales grow? Water regularly and let ideas germinate slowly into blog posts and essays? Allow a drawing to leisurely swell one line at a time? Accept that there is a certain season for doing some things and another for others? I’m not sure, but I’m going to see.

That might mean less links on Twitter somedays (and perhaps more on others), more erratic blog posting (or maybe not), a less rigid structure for my email offerings (though I’ve noticed that they have been varying a little anyway without any complaint so far). I’m hoping it will will also mean feeling less tired and pressured and that the things I put out in the world will be more thoughtful and useful.

Fingers crossed. Wish me luck!