Converging currents, habits as the riverbed and living into a state of flow

Creating a flexible structure to “be regular and orderly in life, so that I may be violent and original in my work.”

“Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.” (Flaubert)

This quote connected so many thoughts, experiences, and questions for me. It quickly merged with the swirling thoughts about converging currents, habits, creative work, and flow.

This is one of those posts I’ve opened, edited, and added to many times over a long period of time. It makes sense. Different seasons, different currents, different outcomes.

Generally, as I reflect on this phase of my life, I feel like I, and our family unit, found a steady rhythm. And that doesn’t feel or sound right intuitively, because everything changes constantly. And maybe because in the past decade, we have sought change (and a bit of chaos) at every step.

Since we’ve known each other, Jim and I have moved about every 2 years, so whenever we hit the 18-month mark, which seems to be where life usually falls into a more orderly rhythm, we prepare to move and uproot everything completely.

But since we moved to our current home, we have made some commitments to this place and this phase. To slowing things down in our lives so that we may focus our “chaotic creative energy” towards other pursuits in our lives. And to offer the kids a more stable environment and a wider community, so they can safely spread their wings and begin exploring the world around them more freely.

I know now that this slowing down in our lives and anchoring down in a place created the environment I needed to step off of the “traditional path” of a full-time career. To be more “violent and original” in that part of my life. Because, when I first stepped off of the traditional path, everything was completely and utterly unpredictable (and still is, at times). I thought it would be impossible to “stick to a routine.” And in our previous state of chaos in our personal lives, it probably would have been. But with a foundation of calm rhythms and quiet habits, it seems possible to ride the swirly waves of creative, independent work.

At that early stage of being independent, I would go from calm days filled with time to write, think, and explore. And suddenly I’d get hit with a wave of multiple projects that would consume all of my energy, and I could barely keep my head above water. Similarly, in our family, we would go from days or even weeks of smooth sailing to phases of intense demand from the kids needing attention and time. All this feels jarring at times. Like being yanked around, similar to Seneca’s story of a dog tethered to a moving cart.

On a road there is a dog tied to the cart. The dog cannot help being tied to the cart, it is merely the situation as he finds it. The cart begins rolling down the road, headed to some destination or other. The dog has two choices: he can fight against the rope and cart, pulling, getting dragged, yelping, and struggling; or, he can trot alongside the cart to wherever it is going. Regardless, the dog is going where the cart is going. There’s no helping that. The only choice is whether he goes willingly, and thus makes it easier on himself and more enjoyable, or he gets dragged biting, snapping, and pulling the whole way.

Another popular metaphor, for example, in Taoism, describes life similar to the flow of a river and recognizes our choice to either swim against the currents or flow with them.

Taoism compares life with a river. The river already has a course or several courses, and once we find ourselves in that river, we can swim against the current, we can hold on to a branch or we can let go and go along with the stream. Most of our lives we swim against the current and we don’t even realize it. Our mind believes that it can and should control the environment, in order to survive, which is kind of egocentric because the vast majority of processes within as well as outside ourselves are not in our control. Taoist way is rather navigating through the river instead of trying to control it.

I expected that there would be different kinds of currents as part of this journey, different phases, but I didn't fully grasp the power of the converging currents that would overlap and merge.

Suddenly, all of these different streams of energy lost predictability and felt chaotic at best. For better or for worse, in a full-time role, the “work stream” was always there, moving along. I was less in control of how or when things would ebb and flow. Just kind of being pulled along, often trying to resist and fight against it, eventually succumbing to the pull, just to get bored and frustrated and begin fighting it again.

Now, all of these streams are flowing more freely, a bit more wild, but also with more force and ferocity. I think about it as different streams of energy that all vary in speed, strength, depth, and flow and, at different times, merging and diverging.

There are internal factors like my personal mental energy, my physical strength, and, as a woman, increasingly, the cyclical nature of hormones. Then there is all the stuff that happens around me, like the kids’ school and sport schedules, business cycles and planning cadences, and with that, as an independent, the different seasons of my work (as in finding work, doing work, not doing work, etc.) And of course, the different seasons of Mother Earth, and how the first blooms in spring versus the last leaves in the fall impact me, my work and my own levels of energy and focus.

I am learning a lot about control, resisting, and flow. Before arriving at this point, I thought that more control in my work would help me move forward: more discipline, time boxing, planning, scheduling, etc. But I am realizing now that in this river of overlapping currents, I needed boring routines and structure in my day-to-day in order to ride the chaotic currents of a creative and “pathless” career path. Rather than the other way around.

Brad Montague described the ability to flow guided by principles as guided drift in his post, “the doubting hero.”

“The idea of the guided drift is about trying to “live a life that was open to change and serendipity, that embraced the possibilities of life rather than the confines of a rigid set of rules” This meant being “guided by our principles, but also free to embrace the flow of life”.”

When we think about flow, one important question is that of agency, direction, and our ability to affect the path and our journey more broadly. We mostly recognize that consistent and incremental action leads to change or progress. So an orderly life, built around consistent habits makes sense. And the idea of guided drift works great when the waters are calm and the currents are manageable. But what happens when the multiple currents of life converge into chaotic swirls? How do we avoid getting sucked into a spiral of doom?

For me, having a baseline of calm in my day-to-day and choosing the right season to swim upstream or explore side currents makes sense in this phase. To allow myself to float most of the time and choose, intentionally, the moments in which I want to struggle against it…the idea of being calm in my life, my routines, and my home to preserve the energy and be able to recognize moments of opportunities for intentional chaos and taking risk. And to stay clear-eyed and calm when all the streams inevitably converge and create phases of chaos and swirl.

And maybe that is the point - to be able to linger in the chaos instead of resisting it. To go with the flow, just like they tell you to swim with the current along the shore if caught in a riptide, instead of panicking and trying to swim against it.

But lingering and flowing requires inner peace and calm. And, it seems, a more “regular and ordinary life” of morning exercise, afternoon dog walks, boring home-cooked meals, and weekend kids' soccer games does wonders for that, who knew?

I am recognizing the benefits of habits as a flexible structure that directs the flow but can change with it. Kind of like a natural riverbed that directs and changes the flow, yet it is simultaneously shaped and changed by it. Flexible and rigid at the same time. Providing safety and support. Allowing me to conserve my energy, build strength for turbulent times ahead, and flow with the changing currents. Habits and an orderly life are my riverbed. Once you see it and recognize its presence and power, this solid but ever-evolving riverbed provides the environment in which guided drift can happen. A flexible structure to “be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work. (Or other parts of your life)”

For now,
Flowing with the currents