Again
“Once more with feeling.”
I started this page with this title a couple of weeks ago with another piece in mind—something about ritual and routine and discussing the difference between them but the value of each. I’ve written a few pages on the topic, but have not been able to whip it into publishable form. I have three or four pieces I have started—some are just titles—but no weekly blog has made it to my site for a couple of weeks.
May 26, 2021
Today is my birthday—may have told you that somewhere—and according to my Mercedonius blog, the end of my Q1.
I had thought of my flexible planning quarter as a period of time that overlaps the New Year—taking the pressure off the January 1st “do or die” day and spreading out consideration of the year’s plans and goals over the start of the year and really get going in March—renew with spring’s rebirth momentum rather than trying to bring things to life in the dormancy of winter.
But now I am rethinking that and may have to rearrange the calendar to better fit my plans. It’s the Roman thing to do.
One of the dangers of writing is that you learn things that you didn’t know you were thinking before you wrote them down. One of the other dangers of writing is if you say it before you actually do it, you don’t actually know if it’s going to work. As I was journaling this morning, I wished myself a “Happy New Year!” But it is also the start of Q2 in my calendar. That doesn’t make any sense. Since it is the start of my (personal) new year, it should be my Q1, right?
It occurs to me, as I sit in Starbucks where the ideas flow freely with sugar, caffeine, and cash, that everyone’s year should start with her birthday and end with Mercedonius. Right now, my Paula-centric worldview doesn’t really even work for me. Here is my revised year:
Q1: My Birthday to late August
For me, this is really the summer—my time of renewal and setting the year I want in motion. As I think in academic calendars, this is my time off. I recently offered a workshop about planning a “summer that lasts all year.” That’s exactly what Q1, wherever it lands, should do: set the tone and foundation for your year.
Q2: September to December (yes, it’s 4 months)
Fall semester. Fall takes me back to my roots—all the way back. Returning to routine is easy to do in Fall because everyone around me is doing it. So I go with the flow. This quarter lasts for four months because we all know December is mostly a wash. It’s a time of implementation and follow-through—action to move those feelings from Q1 along.
Q3: January to March
Since I’m going with the flow, I can’t really fight January for a new start, but instead of making it a new year, it’s just a new quarter. I’m still riding my feelings from Q1 and my actions from Q2 but with an added brightness like crisp winter peppermint.
Mercedonius: Spring Break to my birthday
Fluid and flexible Mercedonius fits exactly where I want it to. Use it like the Romans did—to extend a season or truncate one. Coming out of winter and fueled by the energy Spring Break, I am ready to tally my wins and recoup my losses as I make plans for my new year.
What did I learn from the quarter I did not know was Mercedonius until today? How will Mercedonius allow me to seed a summer that lasts all year long?
June 1, 2021
I thought I lost this blog.
I spent the whole morning searching my Google drive for it and didn’t realize I had drafted it directly on my website—that is not my usual practice because it doesn’t automatically save like Google drive, so I could have easily lost it, but, ironically, and in spite of Mercury retrograde, I didn’t.
New year, new month, same question: What did Mercidonius make me do?
I’ve had a lot of trouble going to sleep and waking up for the last few weeks. Perhaps it’s the power of the recent super full moon lunar eclipse or the excitement of the summer, but my waking and sleeping rhythms are all out of whack. Merdedonius showed me that I need sleep or at least get some period of daily relaxation. When the kids were little, we used to have an hour of quiet time each afternoon. The only rule: no electronics. Sleep, read, or stare at the wall. Quietly. I’m re-implementing 3:30 pm quiet time.
Even though I haven’t posted a full blog in a while, I can write more words more regularly than I think I can. The May Days project helped me see that getting words to the page/screen each day is (mostly) possible. Just because that project is over doesn’t mean I need to stop daily posting. I will keep working my writing muscle.
Since the start of quarantine, my running regimen has flailed. I am motivated by races and running with other people, and without that company, I just didn’t run much. I’d go out a do a couple of unenthusiastic miles every once in a while, but meh. In Mercedonius, I started running again and, miracle of miracles, my daughter started running with me. I’m not as fast as I was a couple of years ago, but it’s a blessing because Bea would not keep up with me at my old pace. Mercdedonius made me a runner again.
This is my first blog of Q1, and it has made me verbalize some high and clear expectations and see my situation. Even though I said summer is my time off, it is really my time on. Really on. I’m home, they’re home and, unlike last summer there’s stuff to do.
I can’t escape into a job to find validity, meaning, and money—I have to work for it.
