“We do not learn from experience. We learn from reflecting on experience.” – John Dewey
As part of the consulting work I do, I have four additional email boxes on top of my work and my personal email boxes. Technically, I have three more work emails than that but with fairly little flow so I don’t check them. So let’s just call it six email boxes that I check more or less every day.
It’s not that bad – I can make a quick round in the morning and evening and button most things up which gives me that sense of completion of having things finished, and if not finished, at least tied down.
But this week, a couple things happened and I got buried under an avalanche of email. First, I volunteered to chaperone a field trip with my daughter’s 2nd grade class. It was wonderful – I wouldn’t have missed riding on a school bus to the Seattle Center, seeing a play, eating lunch, and then playing at a playground with those fantastic kids for anything.
But my daughter left her coat on the playground and I ended up driving back down to Seattle Center and picking it up after the field trip ended. It turned a 4.5 hour commitment into something like 6 and then between picking up and dropping off my kids, I essentially got nothing done for an entire day.
The second thing that happened was that one of my clients had a crisis so all his email flowed into my box and I had to sort out what was a priority and what was not without much context or foundation.
Suffice it to say, I have emails coming out my ears. My nice and tidy practice of at least skimming them has blown up, at least temporarily.
Amidst this electronic mayhem, I sat down to write a thank you card and a birthday letter. Old-fashioned, put the pen to the paper, nothing electronic involved, notes.
It was a wonderful experience for me – the words and images flowed in a different way than if I’d been at the keyboard. Instead, I sat at my dining table late at night after I put the kids to bed and wrote down what was on my mind.
I slowed down and really thought about the words I wanted to choose. And when I’d written my way into a sentence that didn’t work, I had to pause to think if I could weave my way out or if I’d have to take that terrible step and scratch out a word. In that pause, I wondered why I’d used a particular word.
In theory that’s what I do when I write an email as well. Except that other emails come in, I get distracted by a new notification of a WP post, or I want to look up facts and figures to go with some line of thinking. Then the result is more like an edited research paper than a narrative of life.
Sure, I’ll catch up on my email (or I won’t – apologies to anything I’ve missed this week), but I’ve made a note to myself (in long-hand) to remember to keep slowing down and writing something meaningful now and again.
And the timing of this letter writing couldn’t have been more fortuitous because Vicki Atkinson and I talked with artist and writer, Libby Saylor, about journaling, including the benefits of writing things out by hand, in the latest episode of the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Episode 11: How to Journal the Right Way with Libby Saylor.
Surprised By Joy 