Like most people, or maybe not, my usual days divide into segments. The majority of people, certainly me until retirement, had fixed obligations. We needed to check in at work by a certain time and make provisions to get there. Some people returned home with predictability. To keep in good form, we needed to allocate sleeping and wake hours, often aided with an alarm clock. Once at work, many of us had assigned tasks that did not take into account our natural rhythms, those parts of the day when alertness or creativity peaked while other hours were better suited to activities that required little input from our highest CNS centers.
In retirement, most days belong to me. Over a short time, I've learned to restore structure that my work obligations once imposed. Awaken at a fixed time every morning. Avoid my bed thereafter until a specified time each night. Lights out at a predictable time, modified to my wife's needs. I can create environments at home. My Space designed for focus and comfort. Bedroom kept as dark as possible every night with a little coolness to enhance sleep.
Between wake and sleep, many other activities appear. Exercise on schedule. It traditionally has been what I make excuses to avoid, so that gets a priority right after coffee, even though it requires little mental agility. I remember to take my twice-daily medicines if I set the pills in my line of sight to where I will be, usually at my laptop sipping coffee in the morning or in the kitchen preparing supper in early evening. Stretching at midday. YouTube and reading after supper.
Other tasks occur less often, though still scheduled. Weekly YouTube video created every Monday afternoon. Weekly aspired task list done at my desk first thing Sunday morning, then selectively transferred to a magnetic whiteboard on the refrigerator. Weight and waist measured every Monday morning, then recorded to an Excel sheet. Shabbos dinner needs two minitasks: defrost meat Wednesday afternoon, defrost minichallot Thursday, and one larger task, cook in time for sundown. Every Thursday morning while my wife attends to one of her ongoing projects away from home, I tend to clutter in our family room.
All these items get done. Most are finite. Most are stand-alone, at least superficially so, though exercise fits into a grander aspiration of continued health and stamina. Timing adapts to a blend of convenience, avoiding excuses to shirk what I should do, a desire to feel accomplished at the end of each day.
It comes with its downside. Some highly prized aspirations such as expressing myself, engaging with others, and grappling with ideas, attending OLLI classes depend on my daily rhythms. The brain has its best times for thinking abstractly, learning new things, and converting concepts to words that can be shared. I think my optimal mind time fits with the majority, peaking at mid-morning with secondary surges with my first cup of coffee and an hour after supper. These are the times to seek cognitive flow. Too often, though, this time gets pre-empted. When it occurs, distractions too often interrupt those demanding efforts. Moreover, I'm not entirely certain when my mind functions at its peak. Maybe when I am exercising, but changing the exercise slot risks not doing it. For sure, the sorting of family room papers competes with mental prime time because I can count on my wife being away while I work on this. A better approach, I think, one partially initiated, would be to isolate mental time and creative time just as I do the smaller chores, and as I do when I create my weekly YouTube video. 9-11 at my desk, first half hour thinking on paper, the rest expressing new thoughts and editing old ones. Then a second effort after supper, 7:30-9PM. Less TV, or maybe more rationed TV. Big chunks of protected time for the projects that require undivided attention. Without getting into my often challenged attention span, the scheduling that I've done the last two years has turned out well. I need to implement more on a grander scale. And take advantage of what nature set as cycling abilities.
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