When I wake up Monday morning, I can’t say I’m energized. It is more like…renewed. As in, the new week has begun and all the junk of the previous week is usually gone.

You know that feeling when you walk into a room and forget why you’re there? I once heard a psychologist describe this phenomenon. He said that walking through doorways naturally wipes our brains, giving us a clean slate. Walking through, even the most familiar of doors, offers us the sense of a new beginning.

Mondays are like that. I’m suddenly in a new week, wondering why I’m there.

The best part of this new week / new you is that I’m finding new productivity in it.

Here’s a basic outline.

Monday

• I take a minute to plan the day and get an idea of the week.
• Then I get started first thing and write. Usually working through several projects before lunch.
• And I have started using small rewards to pace myself and aid in the task switching.
• This is also my primary Reading Day, so I spend at least one hour reading for work or personal growth.
• For several weeks now, I have ended Monday feeling satisfied and productive.

The rest of the week

I wish I could say that the rest of the week goes as smoothly and productively. But usually things go off the rails by late Tuesday morning. Either it’s the meeting I didn’t plan for, the email I didn’t respond to, or the next project that suddenly needs doing.

As much as I plan my week, the vibe of the week changes as the week progresses. I start feeling the pressure of getting everything done by the end of the week.

The Spillover

I rarely get everything done before dinner time on Thursday. Often work spills over into Thursday night. I struggle to process videos or write sermons during family time. But I try really hard to restrain the work spillover from the weekend. But I often fail. Resigning myself to working on yet another Friday.

Writing sermons on days off is common for many clergy.

Some wear it like a badge of honor: proving just how important they are.

Others begrudgingly. Like they have failed a Sisyphean task of keeping normal, healthy hours.

What I’m wondering about is just how my week can change so dramatically. And why that transformation has come to feel unnervingly normal.

Self-Care and Time Blindness

A big part of the challenge for many clergy is the inherent problem of self-care. Many of us feel stuck with a systemic problem we expect to solve with a personal solution. The other problem is time blindness.

Time blindness is like color blindness, but with time. We may understand how time passes intellectually, but not in practice. Time just is. Our clocks really only understand two times: now and later. And most importantly, we can judge time spatially.

Despite all appearances to the contrary, I actually have developed a really structured sense of my week, setting goals for each day, theming each day of the week for maximum impact. I am really quite organized.

I just have absolutely no clue how long something will really take. And when I finish the hardest part of a project, I act as if it is done. Wrapping up those last details? That should only take a couple of minutes.

But when I sit down to actually do those last minute details? It is never less than an hour. And it always requires concentration.

Between our broken brains, the growing workload, and the sense of having to do this all alone, we’re also then told we need to be more organized. Or to take better care of ourselves. And I frequently end my week feeling like a failure.

Without Fail

What is genuinely funny to me is just how predictable this pattern is. Feeling great on Monday leads to panic on Thursday. Like when I suggested to Rose that I’m not as broody as I used to be and she literally laughed out loud. Monday me always forgets about Thursday me. Oh, nice to meet you! Mr. Hyde, is it?

And yet, as predictable as these feelings are and this outcome is, it happens when I’m super busy and when I’m less so. When I white-knuckle it and when I go with the flow. And always, no matter how many times I look at my calendar.

Yes, a lot of this has to do with my brain. But it is also the moment. The world. And all of our outrageous expectations for being the best and doing it right and hustling for our dreams.

We’re living an unhealthy lifestyle and wondering why we’re sick.

For me, in spite of all of this, I keep trying. And something significant is emerging. That getting clearer on that has already reduced the stress I’m feeling today.