Given a few circumstances, I ended up doing some writing outside of my normal spots and times. As a human, I like patterns, meaning that I have specific places and behaviors that I've consciously and unconsciously put into my routine. Even last night at my Zumba class, we were discussing how everyone goes to their spot and how territorial people can be about that spot. For another example, I've learned that it's best to get out of the house to dedicate writing time. This doesn't mean that I cannot accomplish much at home, but I know that a change of scenery can do wonders for my focus, since I don't have the odd question from Andy or notice another goal or task that I haven't gotten to yet or, most likely, turning on the TV and getting a little more absorbed in my choice of white noise than anticipated. My to-do list is still important when I leave the house, but I can't do anything about folding the laundry when I'm sitting in Starbucks instead. I still multitask--checking bills, confirming coursework is all accounted for, plotting out travel plans--but I can jump back to what I'm doing much more readily.
Anyway, I tend to go to one of two Starbucks for those writing days, favoring one more than the other but keeping the other in reserve if my first choice is too busy for my liking or I want to shake things up a bit while still feeling familiar and comfortable. At home, I also have a couple of designated places, even though my Surface enables me to go physically about anywhere I want. It's a training, a discipline, that it's time to switch into this mode, where I focus on words until I have sketched out the words that I need to or am too mentally exhausted to continue. All in all, my writing times often end up between two to four hours. That may sound like a lot, but this specifically dedicated time is only once a week, four out of one hundred and sixty-eight hours. I try to find an hour or two in the week to tidy up posts or pick up where I left off, but this is a mixed bag, not something I can depend on.
I feel it acutely when I miss this time in the week. Even if I don't feel that I have words to say when I sit down, honoring that space and practice is still important. It's a quiet time to reflect with myself.
As I started with, though, I found myself in some new spots recently. One of them was an old new spot, specifically the Barnes & Noble Cafe. I remember studying in this space before, once for the content tests for my teaching certificate. I had grabbed books on physics, astronomy, and geology, components that I felt shaky on, understanding that these would be part of the exam for high school science content. There ended up being one question about dark matter than I know I answered correctly because of that study time. Two different days I sat at one of the larger tables reading, reading, reading, glancing up to people-watch briefly, and back to reading. The best strategy that I find for myself is rotate, plan out shifts in subject matter rather than forcing something to finish as I'm losing interest and focus. I remember feeling overwhelmed, not sure how to really study for so much material, but determined to refresh myself on rusty elements all the same. I've also been here before with a few different sets of people and had meaningful conversations here. I can also recall a particular conversation or two that I had with a friend here--the last conversation I had with her included calling me naive for thinking that everyone deserved to have healthcare. I have had many hypothetical conversations with this person since, but not any real ones, unfortunately.
But those are the feelings that I associate with this space, now that I'm here writing in it. On the one hand, this clearly has drummed up some associations worth exploring. On the other, am I receiving the full benefit of my writing time by dwelling on them? The question, though, that sticks out to me though is are my favorite spaces more effective because of the associations I have built in those areas or because of the discipline itself? Maybe it doesn't matter in terms of effect, but it is a fun psychological question and otherwise could be important in how I frame my future writing times.
I think that this other space in the cafe works for me because I still connect it with focus of some kind. The discomfort aspect can also work in my favor in that it is good to be uncomfortable sometimes--this is where we grow, where we need to decide whether we want to stretch, abandon, or hold firm to our biases.
Further study is needed. I know that I need wireless access, a place that I can stay uninterrupted (relatively) for a few hours, and some kind of table that I can use my Surface on. This opens up for more options than I would initially assume. Coffee shops have just been a good default, but this has certainly led to a significant increase in my Starbucks consumption. Other suggestions for some different places would not be unappreciated. I'm curious to see what ideas and concepts might stem from new environments.
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