I also found myself doodling – which I almost never do, identifying as a wordsmith with limited artistic ability. I added little annotations to my musings: for instance, next to the phrase ‘taking the leap’ I drew the stick figure jumping from one cliff to the next. My mood felt fun and playful, compared to the more serious, pensive state I usually find myself in while journaling. While the first minutes were more stilted, the hour went quickly – and I felt a sense of creative pride surveying the page as my timer went off.
The next week followed in a similar vein, particularly as I was still in a playful, relaxed mood post holiday. Although as before I had no parameters for what to write about, I surprised myself by being able to direct my own activity quickly – creating a summer bucket list of things I’d like to make time for around London. I then moved into some of my journaling habits, writing a gratitude list for that day, then this year so far.
I hit something of a dip for the next couple of weeks, during a period where I was experiencing stress in different areas of my life, including a romantic disappointment followed by a couple of professional set-backs, while I had several deadlines later in the week. While my first Shultz Hour experiences had been positive, I noticed myself procrastinating the task for these occasions. I’d assigned myself a free Tuesday evening to settle into the task, but sabotaged myself by falling down an Instagram rabbit hole, which I realised was due to a sense of anxiety at carrying out the task. While I decompressed by writing my thoughts down (moving from short phrases to longer, reflective sentences), I longed for my journaling practice, which gives me a more structured, linear way of moving past my feelings. The nature of writing down my thoughts on a blank piece of paper felt too much like the inside of my head: disconnected, scattered. The hour stretched on longer than I would have liked – and the following week was even worse. I finished feeling deflated, and escaped my disappointment by binge-watching Ted Lasso.
For the final session, I resolved to put myself in a positive mindset before I began. I journaled the night before, and I committed myself to the task on a Thursday evening after a productive, ordered week spent meeting my work commitments and socialising with close friends. While I’d returned from a trip to Lisbon earlier that week, I had put away my laundry and eaten a healthy, home-cooked dinner before beginning. From that state of mind, the Shultz Hour felt as it should: creative. I found myself resorting to my initial motivations for the task – planning my life and gaining some control over my time going forward. My creative solution this time around was to write down headings like ‘FRIENDSHIP’, ‘PHYSICAL HEALTH’ and ‘CAREER’ on the page before listing goals for the months going forward. The ideas were following – and I ended up sticking that piece of paper in front of my desk as a sort of mood board to inspire the next few weeks.
What I’ve realised, through this exercise, is that the blank page very much reflects the state of your mind going into it. This is not a practice like meditation and journaling, which can ground you from an initial state of anxiety. If you are feeling burned out when you approach Shultz Hour, then it won’t work any magic. After all, the creative ‘answers’ it can render come from you – so if you’re not in a mental health space to provide them, then it can quite easily lead to a sense of shame. However, during the weeks I was feeling up to the task, it was a totally different story – I was amazed at the creative inspiration it gave me for both my writing and my leisure activities, and there was a real confidence of knowing I had all that inside me.
Going forward, I won’t hold myself to doing this task once a week (not unless the White House comes calling…), having concluded that it’s not a healthy thing to force myself to do when my mental health isn’t up to it. However, when I’m in a positive state of mind, this is a brilliant way to supplement my creative thinking. It’s amazing to know I can come back to Shultz Hour on a monthly basis, to tackle specific areas of my life I want to brainstorm about, and impress myself with what I come up with.
Francesca Specter is a London-based writer and podcaster. You can follow her work by signing up to her newsletter, while she’s on Instagram at @ChezSpecter.