Wildflowers and Word Counts: Lessons from a Non-Writing Weekend
The Writer's Paradox of Productive Procrastination
I'm going to be brutally honest with you right from the start: I haven't written a single word this week. Not one. This is the first time I've put pen to paper, as it were, and I'm not beating myself up about it. In fact, I'm rather pleased about it, and I'll tell you why.
Morning Rituals and Unexpected Discoveries
This morning started like most others. Up at six o'clock, dogs walked and fed, shower, then cycling to the gym for sports training. The session was brilliant, challenging in all the right ways, exactly how it should be. At some point, instead of grinding away, I started to take note of my surroundings.
Cycling home, slightly exhausted but invigorated, I noticed the wildflowers lining the route. There's something about being on a bike, you're moving slowly enough to see things differently, unlike when you're driving, and everything blurs past. I spotted cornflowers, the inevitable dandelions, and quite a few others I didn't stop to identify because, frankly, I was knackered and just wanted to get home.
But here's the thing, I noticed them. I mean, really noticed them. When was the last time you stopped to appreciate something as simple as wildflowers on your commute? This moment of awareness, this connection with the world around me, was feeding something in my creative soul that sitting at a desk wrestling with words couldn't.
The Not-So-Glamorous Side of Creative Life
After the high of training and the gentle pleasure of flower-spotting came the less inspiring but equally necessary part of life: administration. Half the business admin done, I desperately needed a break. This is the reality for most of us: we're not just crafting beautiful prose (at least, that’s the plan); we're also dealing with invoices, emails, and all the mundane tasks that keep our lives running.
I used to feel guilty about this time spent away from writing. Shouldn't every spare moment be devoted to the craft? Shouldn't I be squeezing words out of every available hour? Perhaps in an ideal world, but real life isn’t like that.
This afternoon brought a different kind of creative challenge. We have a covered terrace that becomes unbearably hot on warm, sunny evenings due to how our house sits. We'd already installed several layers of shade protection, but today we added another. What seemed simple in concept turned out to be quite a practical challenge.
However, as I was wrestling with this shade installation, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The problem-solving, the physical work, the satisfaction of seeing an immediate, tangible result, it was feeding a different part of my brain than writing does.
Just because I am a writer and I do enjoy writing, doesn't mean there aren't other things in life I enjoy just as much. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but there are definitely other things in life I enjoy, period. And that's not only okay, it's essential.
The Honest Art of Dictated Thoughts
Due to a lack of time yet again, I'm wandering around this very terrace, dictating into Otter AI. Once I'm complete, I'll export the transcript, load it into Claude, and ask it to take the raw content and produce something akin to my weekly post. Then the real work begins, the editing process.
I need to ensure that it’s not inventing things I didn’t say and that the words that appear are my own, not some AI substitution or so-called correction. I know I'm not perfect with my writing, but that's part of my voice. I have certain idiosyncrasies, things I write that aren't necessarily Grammarly-correct, but I like them. That's the way I write, that's how I feel comfortable, and that's what makes my writing more recognizable.
This process itself has become a metaphor for the writing life; we use the tools available to us, but we must always remain true to our authentic voice.
The Long Weekend Paradox
Next week promises to be different. I have a luxuriously long weekend ahead, as I no longer work on Fridays or Tuesdays, and Monday is a public holiday. That means five days off. This current "weekend" actually started on Wednesday night, as Thursday was also a public holiday. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and today, Sunday – four days where I could have been writing.
And yet, here we are. Another week of what some might call "non-productive writing," and I'm not drowning in guilt about it. I'm motivated, yes, but I'm also realistic. Maybe I need to knuckle down and find that time, probably through time-blocking. Perhaps if I get up an hour earlier than I normally do (which is already pretty early), that would be a start.
It doesn't have to be 1000 words a day. It doesn't have to be perfect. Any writing is better than no writing, but equally important – any living is better than no living.
Finding Rhythm in the Chaos
There's a rhythm to creative life that extends far beyond the keyboard. It includes the early morning workouts that clear our minds, the practical problems that engage our hands, the moments of natural beauty that feed our souls, and yes, the administrative tasks that keep our worlds functioning.
All of these elements contribute to who we are as writers. The wildflowers I noticed today might appear in something I write next month. The problem-solving skills I used in installing the shade could inform how a character approaches a challenge in my novel. The satisfaction of completing a physical project reminds me why finishing a piece of writing feels so good.
We all have permission to be human. Permission to have weeks where the writing doesn't happen because life is too full of other good things. Permission to find joy in activities that aren't directly related to our craft. Permission to trust that all of these experiences are feeding our creativity in ways we might not immediately understand.
This doesn't mean we abandon discipline or give up on our writing goals. It means we recognize that creativity flows from the experience of being alive, not just from sitting at a desk.
Final Thoughts
As I wrap up this dictated ramble from my newly shaded terrace, I'm reminded that writing isn't just about the words we put on paper. It's about the life we live that gives those words meaning. Sometimes the most productive thing a writer can do is step away from writing and live fully.
The wildflowers will be there next time I cycle past. The terrace is now properly shaded for future writing sessions. The business admin is half done (and the other half will get done when it needs to). And this newsletter, born from a wandering walk and dictated thoughts, proves that creativity finds a way.
Next week might be different. I might get up that hour earlier and carve out dedicated writing time. Or I might discover something else that feeds my soul in unexpected ways. Either outcome is perfectly valid for a writer who's learning to balance craft with life.
Until next time, have a really good and productive, or relaxing, week, depending on what you need most. The words will be there when you're ready for them.
In time spent on my knees asking a similar question my answer was "Knock off Jack. You worked for 63 years. That's enough". Now I work if I feel like it Mike.