Slowing Down, Taking Stock, and Starting Again: Writing in These Times: Part II
Hello Doctoral Writer,
If you are reading this, then congratulations. You are still standing after navigating a year of change and pandemic-mediated challenges you may have never imagined. If you did imagine them, then perhaps you need to leave your day job and become a seer, because I don’t know of a single human who knew that we would be going through all that this past year.
I am writing this post as more of a reflection on what I have observed this past year as a coach than as a quick “10 Steps” guide to whatever component of your writing you are trying to conquer. Last year, early in the pandemic I penned a post called “Writing in These Times.” Much of what I wrote in that post still applies, because there is no way that you are not a different person than you were a year ago. Living in the midst of a pandemic changes people. Pandemic life changes relationships, work contexts, the rhythms of our days. Navigating pandemic life taxes our mental and emotional capacities. And it does so every single day for months on end.
Please let that last line sink in. For over a year now, you have been working in the shadow of a global crisis. In order to cope, you may have found ways not to think about it ad infinitum. Doing so is probably much healthier than the over-Googling in which we all likely indulged last year.
As you have forged on with your work, your research plans, and your writing, you may have grown accustomed to some of the changes. In certain cases, you may have even found the good that has resulted from circumstances foisted upon us early last spring. You have done so because that is what humans do in order to survive. We adapt. As we say in the South, “That’s great and all,” but as we seem to be rounding the bend toward living less isolated lives, it seems appropriate to stop, take stock of where you are in both your “regular” and scholarly life, and move forward with a renewed sense of wisdom. Here’s what I suggest:
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Take time off from writing.
This may seem like a counterintuitive suggestion. I’m a coach. Shouldn’t I be spurring you on, quoting the Stoics and telling you to get back in the saddle? Maybe. Or maybe, you need to give your mind and body some actual rest. During this time, do not set goals. Do not read articles. Do not think about your research, your committee, your deadline, your need to finish this degree now, goddammit. No. When those thoughts come, perhaps put them down on paper and tell them that you will be back to tend to them later. The mental health professionals have spoken, and the secondary trauma caused by COVID-19 is real. I’m not saying you need to create any feelings or admit to trauma that you don’t have. However, as a coach, I see writers who are just plain exhausted and who are beating themselves up for simply not having anything left to give. If this is you, if your dig down deep button feels broken, then take a break. During that break, do what nurtures you. Hint: it might be doing absolutely NOTHING. It might be staring out into space for a bit and letting whatever emotions arise just be there. It might be connecting with a loved one or making some art. You know what nurtures you. And if you are under a deadline, ask yourself “Whose deadline? For whose doctorate?” Ask yourself which is more important, the deadline or your mental health? Then listen to the answer, and do what is right for you.
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Take stock of your current situation.
Note, this step is not for when you are taking time off. Time off is exactly that. It’s time to let your mind rest and let your body begin to recover from navigating through taxing times. However, once your time off is over, it’s time to take stock. Taking stock means that you take an honest look at the demands on your time and the resources that you have to meet those demands. Think of these two items as items on a scale. If your demands seem greater than your resources, then you need to decrease your demands or increase your resources. Here is how this is playing out with several of my current students. I have noticed that many writers who were previously biting off large chunks of their writing are now working more incrementally. Sometimes they write a paragraph or two every couple of days. Are they thrilled with slowing down a bit? No. But this approach is better than trying to push through overwhelm and not write anything at all. For many of these students, the demands they were placing on themselves were self-prescribed. Taking a slow-and-steady wins the race approach kept them moving forward during a time when mental and emotional resources have been taxed.
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Set new goals. Be specific.
For any of you who are part of our Doctoral Writing Community (and if you are not, this community has become the place to get structured, affordable dissertation support), you have heard us all say that a goal is not “working on my Chapter 2.” Goals that get met are goals that are specific and actionable. They can be put on a calendar/timeline. However, one aspect of successful goal setting is that you need to match your goal to your level of ability/knowledge. We are big on beginner’s mind around here, and unless you have five other doctorates lying around and are just getting this one to fill the time, you are a beginner. As a beginner, it is simply not realistic to think that you are going to zoom through the complex process of conceptualizing your research, reading scholarly texts, writing about them in scholarly ways, revising your writing when (not if) your committee gives you feedback to address. Dissertations are different animals, doctors to be, and they take much more time to write than we want to believe. As a beginner, include in your writing goals the task called, “get clarity.” In order to get clarity, you will need to consult authors, other researchers, and your committee members. And of course, your dissertation coach will help you get as much clarity as possible.
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Ask for (even a teensy bit) of writing joy.
With so much global upheaval, with loss pervading our lives this past year, with your energy being stretched, many of us have been in survival mode. We have necessarily put our heads down and done what was needed to help our families, students, coworkers, and ourselves carry on. Part of moving forward with writing in this time is to look for places to embed joy in both our “regular” and writing lives. Embedding joy is different for everyone. For me, embedding joy in my writing meant that I let myself spend way too much on cappuccinos and quiche at one of my favorite haunts. It also meant I wrote at night in the wine garden, taking moments to look up and have a moment with the moon while I analyzed my data. It also meant not sacrificing the art or my voice in my writing. Finally, it meant absolutely refusing to believe that I couldn’t be both a good mother and a good doctoral student — to believe that my kids would be fine (they were), to trust that I was on the right path and that I would finish. Writing joy for you might mean finding a band of doctoral writers to meet up with. It might mean carving out an entire weekend to write, or having your writing space meticulously organized. It doesn’t matter what will infuse some joy and perhaps even some playfulness back into your writing, but I assure you that the days of gutting it out to just get it done need to be over. We have been in a war with a pandemic for over a year. Could we try a different model for writing? One that allows the creativity and scholarly transformation of which getting a doctorate is worthy? Even if your program calls for a templated approach to your dissertation, or if your program gave you virtually no guidance at all, you can find a way to imbue your writing with your writerly thumbprint.
No one else can write the dissertation that you will, and as we forge ahead into what are hopefully going to be brighter days, I urge you to take a break, take stock, set some new goals and — perhaps most importantly of all — stubbornly search for your own joy.