Good morning,
Can you believe it’s already April? February and March were busy months—a move, an international trip, finding our footing in a new neighborhood, and taking on more freelance work. In this season, I gifted myself my first-ever secretary desk, a beautiful teak piece that’s nearly 60 years old and now lives in the center of our home. I love having my work centered but not visible, since secretary desks allow you to fold the workspace closed when not in use.
It feels like the right metaphor for everything in life these days. So much of what we carry—news, dark looming shadows, small longings, our work (long after we sign off), our art (long before it takes form)—is invisible and yet right in the center of our hearts or minds as we move through the obligations of our days.
I usually don’t have a problem with this. I like the layers of doing the thing in front of me while thinking about something else in small moments. It’s generally how I write—in my head constantly, and then, when I have some time, all at once. And for those who know the nap time hustle… it’s the ultimate physical reminder of how it goes. Open to work, close to return to parent life.
By the end of March, though, I found a project tugging so hard at the seams of my time that I had to give in and center it—visibly.
So I designed a short “deep work” sprint for myself—something I haven’t done intentionally before, except in those unplanned, all-consuming bursts like my college capstone or master’s thesis. Long nights, fully immersed, unshowered, and eating cold spaghetti for days, with the occasional side of whiskey.
I’ll probably never work in that kind of fever dream again, at least not while I have young kids. But I have been wondering: how close can I get? Can I create a season that feels immersive and creative, in a short burst?
This is a tricky proposition for a freelancer/writer who is the primary caregiver on weekdays. I wrote about this in January, and framing things gently and flexibly felt really helpful at the time.
But now that we’re in Q2 of the year, and with care-intensive seasons coming up for me in Q3 and 4, I sat down, asked myself some hard questions, and set up a rhythm that, so far, feels like… success?!
This isn’t without doubt, guilt, or exhaustion. But it feels like a new kind of success. Like I’m showing up twice a week to meet another version of myself, familiar but also new, and we’re enjoying each other’s company.
So!
I thought I’d share a little recipe for how to make it happen, if you need one too—kids or no kids.
The Deep Work Design Questionnaire
⭐️ Basic Principles:
Design for how you work, not what the outcome is.
Have a dream goal and a grounded goal.
Build in support and celebration. No one likes to work alone.
⭐️ What to Ask Yourself:
What’s your goal?
Mine is to finish a draft of a big writing project I’ve been working on very slowly over time. It’s not the kind that can fit into naps or half-days. I just need to be alone and immerse myself. But, I know that’s not necessarily going to happen, so it’s my dream goal. My grounded goal is: I want to have 15 deep work sessions on this project and see where we get. I’ll feel great about that.
Why now?
I’m feeling the ebbs and flows of parenthood more now and I see that there are multi-month stretches of family stuff and then quiet months. I want to start using the quiet months for me, to do the things that fill my cup up. I’m also giving myself an endpoint by doing a residency in June that I want to bring this project to. So I need the time to get the raw material out and then workshop it in company. It doesn’t feel optional. It feels like something in me needs time to get out onto the page.
What is your ideal work session like?
For me it’s not that long: maybe 3-4 real hours of deep work, but it’s padded by ample time for thinking and wandering. So let’s say about a 6 hour day. I like to be in a quiet but not-too-quiet place, definitely not at home. Neutral, peaceful, safe. For me, that’s at the co-working space for writers that I belong to, or a local coffeeshop that’s not super popular.
How often do you want it to happen?
There is something magical and motivating about showing up at the same place weekly. Not more, not less. I’m not a daily worker. I like my days to feel varied and I don’t really want to spend more than 1 day at a time away from my kid yet. But weekly is just enough time to feel like I’m rinsing and repeating, deepening the work, and I look forward to going back. So I decided to give myself Tuesdays and Thursdays for deep work, and let my mom brain and strategy brain stay alive on Mon/Wed/Fri. Some people can show up and write every morning but if I have too much time with the page, I lose myself. I need time in between for passive thinking and collecting notes.
How will you switch gears when starting or ending feels hard?
This was the single hardest thing about trying to write during naps. I didn’t want to stop when I had to stop. So I’ve built some buffer into my sessions for proper self-care. Plus a long walk to start and a long walk to end. It helps to have a dog :)
What support do you need?
The obvious one: childcare. I decided to subsidize these 2 days a week through freelance work from the last few months.
The other is accountability. I needed to tell people what I’m doing so it would actually happen. Fortunately, I have a monthly writing group who have all written books and raised children older than mine and they immediately encouraged me to go for, to do it outside the house and to text them for support. So I report by text to them now!
How will you celebrate the wins?
I am so bad at this one. I’m one of those people that can only see the things I haven’t done yet even after I do something hard. But that’s what friends are for. Also open to tips here.
⭐️ Related references:
DIY Artist Residency in Motherhood Kit: Super cool DIY kit to design your own residency as a mother-artist. I discovered it after I designed my sprint but it aligns super well!
Seasons of delivery vs. data collection: Some context on how I think about work in seasons, from the archives.
How to design a sabbatical: An account of how I designed a sabbatical the year before having a kid. Kind of the opposite of where I am now, but similar lessons.
This is my second week of the deep work sprint. Last week generated so much momentum that I can’t wait to jump back in. But I think what’s most important to remember is that output isn’t the only goal. It’s about letting yourself get deep enough into the work.
Especially after a year of caregiving, I feel like I’m finding myself in these sessions. It’s a whole different you in there if you can make it in. Have you met yourself?!
Already curious about how I can punctuate my year with small seasons like this! If there is any part of this you want me to dig more into (or share your own deep work goals) feel free to email back or leave a comment.
Happy Tuesday,
Jihii