Most mornings, I follow the same routine. I get up, drink coffee, and work at my computer for a couple of hours (theoretically writing and not looking at the internet). I do the crossword puzzle while eating breakfast and then shower, to get ready for the rest of my day.
But sometimes I just keep writing. I eat breakfast (because: breakfast) but don’t bother with the shower. And if I’m really into my writing, I stay in my jammies. I tell myself I’ll get dressed, but then another word beckons. Another sentence forms in my mind. Another scene begs to be written. And so I don’t bother.
Honestly, though? I kind of have to force myself to let this be okay. It is ingrained in me to get showered, put on make-up, fix my hair. Put my game face on. It makes me feel a little bit nervous. Like, what if someone comes to the door and there I am, still in my jammies? And recently, while writing in my journal about how to devise the perfect schedule for myself (a constant quest), I figured out why.
Because staying in my jammies to write is in many ways a radical act, precisely because I am not putting my game face on. I’m not putting any face on. I’m facing the computer. My work. My writing. My passion.
I’m putting all that first instead of worrying about what the world will think. Me first. Not the rest of the world. A radical act, especially for women.
And yeah, I know you could make the argument, and many have, that it’s a good thing for those who work at home to act as if they are going to the office. To show up at their home office with game face on. It’s a mental thing, they say. Showing your readiness.
But I like my radical jammies idea better. I like turning to face my work first, the world second. Not making myself into an image of what I think I should be, but allowing myself to be what I want to be.
One of my favorite Instagram images from the past year was around Halloween. A novelist named Tif Marcelo shared a photo of her daughter’s costume. She was attired in bathrobe and slippers and a sign around her neck proclaiming “Tif Marcelo, Author.” A seven-year-old’s view of her mother’s job. Isn’t that the best thing ever?
I mentioned a couple newsletters ago that I was having trouble indulging in my usual end-of-the-year sport of setting goals. Still am. But now I have one: wear radical pajamas more often. I leave you with a Crescent Dragonwagon quote and wish you a very happy new year. See you in 2018!
“Choose, daily, for and on behalf of the best and highest in yourself. Choose for what and who you aspire to be. Choose what will serve the you that you are growing towards, however uncertainly, not the you you were or even are, but the future you.”
What are your goals for 2018? Leave a comment!
Both images from everystockphoto