First
snow-sticking-on=the=ground=and-slushy-roads day in downtown Toronto. The
provident already have their boots out and the rest have wet looking feet. I am
still looking for the snow shovel; it must be in the garage.
I love fresh snow in the city, for even
with grey skies and the weight of that ugly word “slush”, the snowed surfaces
brighten the day, giving us spare wintry lightness. I can love it because I’m
not trying to drive in traffic made worse by the slush or to navigate the
slippery sidewalks with a cane or walker or while pushing a child in a stroller.
Snow now is a reminder of time. Yikes!
Every year December seems to collapse, lose days, until suddenly it’s the
weekend before Christmas. Part of it is that we all raise our expectations at
this time of year. We make more of an effort to see people and socialise, we
may be doing those extra shopping errands for presents, or packing for a
Christmas holiday departure. Whatever the extra “it” is, the month accelerates
past.
In the last five or six years I’ve been
away in November and the first half of December, so I’ve missed these early
weeks and landed as the holidays were about to start. Now that work travels are
taking me elsewhere my travel away pattern has shifted. I like that. The change
helps me see with fresh eyes, and appreciate the details I might have ignored when
I was last around at this time of year.
In this past five
weeks since I got home from Iran I've been able to really dig into my Persian World project. I've come to realise, as I've been digesting my Iran and Georgia
trips, doing recipe work, engaging with photos, stories, and historical
research, that I love being home working and reflecting. And with short days and chilly weather, being indoors is feeling good, and productive. It’s a privilege to be
able to settle in, to NOT have to think about airplanes and packing, etc. for awhile.
Is
this age, I caught myself wondering yesterday, this pleasure I am taking in
being home and working steadily?
Perhaps. But I think it’s also a change in
working style. And that in turn comes from increased confidence. Rather than rushing from thing to thing, afraid I’ll be late or
miss out on something, I am now more prepared to work steadily and to not worry
about the possibility of not getting this or that done in a day. I guess I am
being more methodical and generally more deliberate. Part of the explanation for the change is that after
doing the Burma book sola, rather than with a partner, I know that I can
trust myself to carry a big project through on my own. And I enjoy the whole process more, for I am in control of what
is done or not done. It’s all up to me.
I used to think that carrying one large
project, a thesis say (which was how I first imagined what a large project
would be, when I was in my teens and early twenties), would be impossible for
me, too sustained and onerous a burden. Then once I started making books in a
partnership, I discovered that like almost every other task, the work of
researching writing, etc. gets broken down into pieces and gradually as the
pieces get worked on, the whole takes shape. Once the first book, Flatbreads
& Flavors: A Baker’s Atlas, was finished, and the manuscript sent in,
starting on another book seemed like an obvious and wonderfully desirable
thing.
But in those early years there were the
kids to factor in, and the organising of travel and other work, and the complications of partnership. It all seems
like a whirling blur as I look back.
In comparison, this process of deciding
what work I will do on a particular day is very easy and uncomplicated. I can recipe test, or write up work already tested, or take on the writing
of a story, or read some history, or edit photos… All of those possibilities
are inviting. That’s the thing. And none of them scares me, though they do all
require me to have energy and to take them on with creative imagination, rather
than passively.
I think that’s the essential difference
between a chore and work that you love. A chore is something that just needs to
be done, and can be done with a dull mind and heavy or exhausted spirit, whereas
work that I like and that I look forward to requires good energy and
engagement. If I’m sleepy or otherwise exhausted I won’t get any good work
done. And in such a state I’m better off
doing some chore like cleaning or tidying my office or looking for that shovel.
I can imagine you wondering, 'and what about
writing this blogpost?' For me writing, all writing, including these explorations of ideas on the virtual page, requires a fresh head and good
energy. And of course I also need to have an idea in my head that I want to
explore. I woke up this morning knowing that I wanted to write this. And now here it is, miraculously.
Once I’ve posted this, and done some other
book-writing work, I’ll hit a low ebb, energy-wise. And then it will be time to get that
sidewalk shovelled!
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