Make your bed, eat your oatmeal
Jean Parsons, the long time director of the art department where I attended high school, was known for telling her students to do two things, every day, without fail.
Make your bed.
Eat your oatmeal.
Perhaps you prefer something else for breakfast, but I'm a creature who finds great comfort in routines. I like knowing what I am supposed to do first, and what I should do next, especially first thing in the morning, which I generally want to protect from the full onrush of the world and work and whatever else might fill the space if I don't treat it as sacrosanct.
Leaning into a familiar rhythm—or creating one—can soothe the mind that wants to know, even what it cannot yet know, such as how long will this last, are my parents okay, and how am I going to get fresh vegetables?
Nine years ago, when I began creating what is now Poetry Forge, I consciously aligned my teaching and personal workflow with some of the natural rhythms of the year. Why not? As my own boss, I could shape my schedule and annual calendar however I pleased.
For example, I tend to have a particular kind of focus during deep winter, which naturally lends itself to working on big writing projects. In summertime, my attention feels more elliptical, but longer days mean I can still move forward on projects I care about, I just approach them with an awareness that I will also want to spend more time outside. While some of the features of my daily routine will shift with each season, I still always begin with two important things:
Read a poem.
Write some words.
Then I make my bed and put on real clothes and cook my oatmeal. I try to lock eyes with whatever is happening outside, too, before I get to my desk. Importantly, I don't check my email or any other form of electronic media until I've done those foundational things, because more often than not, doing so leads to feelings of stress, worry, and an urge to rush. This sort of thing can really interfere with my mood and my ability to do my day in a way that feels healthy and sustainable. On the other hand, I can do more or less everything I truly need to do, if I begin with a little routine.
Here are questions I often ask my students:
What would make your day feel better to you?
Could you do a one week experiment where you explore different ways to make your morning work better for you?
What would you do differently tomorrow?
You might have more choice than you realize, especially if you are no longer commuting first thing each morning.
Rhythms, rituals, and creative habits all help me to gather my pieces into forms that serve me, rather than undermining me. I need these structures and commitments if I am to do what I am here to do. They feel essential to my integrity, in every sense of that word.
Whether saluting the sky, writing in a daily way, baking bread, or making my bed in a mindful way, has helped me to train my body/mind to continue, to keep on keeping on, but with less effort, and less wondering about what it is I am supposed to be doing. In this way, I come closer to living in accordance with my truest values and intentions. In this way, we all evolve.
—Holly Wren Spaulding, April 2023