A few years ago, one of my mentors got a bee in his bonnet about how Selma and I needed a day off.

And not once in a while. Not right before I was about to fall apart.

A regular thing. A weekly thing.

I knew he was right. And everything in me said this was a Wise and Sensible Plan. But it wasn’t happening.

Since I often say that there’s time and that good things often do take time, I thought I’d map out for you the super long process involved in getting to the point where this is mostly a thing.

Phase 1. The seed is planted.

Over and over again.

My business mentor levels the arguments:

  • I already work weekends because that’s when I teach.
  • That we all have to live by what we teach, and a radical subversive practice of being mindful and curious about taking care of ourselves is part of what I teach.
  • Further, we have a responsibility to model this way of living: basic self-care is part of that. Hell, extreme self-care is part of that.
  • And without taking time for shavasana, a practice isn’t really a practice.

I know he’s right. And I’m not there yet.

I work on what I can do — meeting myself where I am. Being in the hard.

Phase 2. Parameters are defined, readjusted.

My mentor makes me choose a day.

I say Wednesday.

I have no intention whatsoever of taking Wednesday off. There’s too much work to be done.

So I keep waiting. Until there is no avoiding the fact that I’m about to fall apart. Then on the verge of a massive breakdown, a state of Emergency Vacation is declared. Awesome.

Phase 3. Naming is important, of course.

The Day Off is officially entered into iCal as The Day Off.

It mocks me each Wednesday, as I am obviously not taking a day off. Seeing the reminder is just too depressing.

So the name gets changed to Workless Wednesday.

This makes me laugh, even when I am working. I like the sound of it. It is a silly day.

I wake up Wednesday morning and think workless workless workless. My day begins a little later. It’s good.

Phase 4. Experimentation begins.

We mess around with Doing Slightly Less.

The official There will be no clients and no meetings and no teaching teleclassses on Workless Wednesdays ruling went into effect a little over a year ago.

This quickly became the No really, you may not schedule ANYTHING for Havi on a Wednesday ordinance.

Then Wednesday became take more time in the morning day. And then let’s go for a long walk before we start day. And then mmm spend the afternoon doing things around the house day.

Guilt-less napping and permission slips! I was starting to look forward to Wednesdays.

Phase 5. A spark of something.

About six months ago I decided that Wednesday needed a spark. An adventure!

Not just not-working or less-working, but something different. Something that would take completely me out of the usual routines.

I talked my gentleman friend into a weekly afternoon outing.

It could be anything or anywhere, as long as in some part of it we got to a) go somewhere we hadn’t been before and b) sit in a cafe and do some writing.

And now we have regular Wednesday outings. Every week.

We still put in a solid three hours of work in the morning. But in the afternoon we go off adventuring.

Phase 6. Learning through experience.

And taking notes about how the physical, emotional and mental experience changes things.

After the first few outings, I noticed that I was much less irritable during Drunk Pirate Council, the weekly meeting for the company that happens every Thursday.

And less wiped out on Fridays. More patient in general.

Also, that I get more done in those intense Wednesday morning hours than I do the rest of the week. It’s like a taste of what happens at the Rally (Rally!).

On the outings, I invariably end up talking and writing about stuff going on in the business, and ideas get born.

The outings aren’t just good for me. They’re good for everyone and everything I encounter. That was obvious before I started doing them, of course, but now this knowing is something I can feel.

Phase 7. Yesterday.

Yesterday I was feeling really, really anxious. Argh. Worst timing ever for Workless Wednesday.

A certain problem/challenge/difficulty that has been brewing over the past few months had come to a head. A solution was needed and I needed it now.

This was not the right time for an outing.

But it was already a ritual. Tradition. That’s what you do on Wednesdays.

We ended up at the Rocking Frog cafe, escaping the pouring rain. We drank warm things and ate hot pepper and gouda sandwiches.

I started taking some notes on the challenge-that-has-been-driving-me-crazy-for-three-months. And then it totally resolved itself.

And then I bought myself an orange hat. A very orange hat. An orange hat so orange that it’s practically obscene. It was a very good Workless Wednesday.

Phase 8. Now.

There are three things I know now.

  1. Invoking Workless Wednesday and using its powers on things that aren’t working is the most brilliant problem-solving tool ever, outside of Dance of Shiva. Worklessness activate!
  2. I cannot wait until every day is like Workless Wednesday. Two or three hours of focused, concentrated getting-stuff-done, followed by a delightful adventure. And some writing. And a nap.
  3. I can take my time with that too. We’ll get there. And when we do, it will be beautiful.

Fourth thing: the more time I spend working on the Book of Me, the easier it is to remember this stuff and the faster it is to implement it.

And comment zen for today.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We let other people have their stuff. It’s a process.

We can talk about what’s true for us. We don’t give unsolicited advice. We help other people feel welcome and supported.

And! If you’re going to be in or near Portland the Younger* next weekend and you don’t have plans for Zombie Yule**, let me know in the comments.

I’m thinking of throwing together a tiny, cozy, Rally-like-thing where we can make big progress on the Book of You.

* As opposed to Portland the Elder, the original one, on the east coast. Thanks @annabarnett.

** Yes, Zombie Yule.

The Fluent Self