Once again, despite all the warning signs, I am a bit surprised to find that it’s the final full week of August. I shouldn’t be caught off guard. The signs have been building for weeks, mornings are a bit darker and cooler when I leave the house. Then there’s a bit of — je ne sais quoi — that’s infused everyone and everything this week. Some of it is frantic (and frenetic) prep before the academic year starts. Some of it knows that crunch time is nearly here before the high holiday season arrives. Some of it is hoping to lay groundwork to survive this time period and also get a business (or two) through its busy seasons of renewed attention to knitting (anything and everything) and the end-of-year holidays.
This morning, thanks to clear blue skies, I took my planner and a cup of coffee outside. I worked through my big picture planner1 for the next two months. I set down to paper what I know now: when services are, some key meetings, and that’s about it at this point. That’s ok; it’s a start.
With the exception of Yom Kippur, all the chaggim are on the weekend this year. That sounds easier on paper, until you look at the reality: long weeks of work and shul, with very few breaks in sight.
By doing this planning on paper, I really can understand what needs to shift and what will stay the same. Yes, I have all of this electronically, but by writing it down it reinforces what is happening when. I see when I have to shift or compress a schedule, where I can add some buffers, and when I might potentially squeeze in a short nap. I’m not over planning. I don’t have menus or honey cake ready to go. By laying this out now, I’m not caught unawares by most of what’s happening in September and early October.
This time of year has multiple needs — business and personal. I don’t expect to hit deadlines without weeks of preparation. Nor do I expect to walk into shul on Yom Kippur expecting an aha spiritual moment without planning. Both need work now. I don’t expect it all to be set today, nor do I expect it all to stay the same tomorrow. But this planning is what will make it possible to navigate expectations. Taking time for this sort of planning helps me make space for some of the introspection that is a hallmark of this time of year.
Finding your own clear blue sky morning
Your complicated season likely looks very different from mine, and it may fall at a completely different time of year. The specifics matter less than recognizing when you have your own “late August”—that quiet window before things accelerate.
Here are some questions to ask as you start to make it all visible. Once you map out not just the big event and current week, but also the next six to eight weeks surrounding it (don’t neglect the week after).
- Where are the pressure points and how do they connect? Will you have weeks of constant intensity, or is it more staggered?
- What are the anchors, the things that can’t move? Build your buffers around them. For example, I’d love to do things on Thursday evenings, but I know that between teaching all day and weekends of Jewish holidays, I’m going to protect Thursday nights and extra time on Fridays before Shabbat for the foreseeable future.
- Are there surprises you can already see? What might you do about them now?
I truly believe that sometimes the best thing you can do is slow down and pause to plan the transition, rather than showing up and hoping that it works out. That’s what these final August days provide: the space to transform our most chaotic time into something we can navigate with intention.
I wrote about this same practice last year; this year is similar and yet completely different, which is why I turn it over again and turn it again each year2.
- I use a Rhodia Classic Notebook, Dot Grid, A4 size and draw my rolling 4 week spread. ↩︎
- see Pirkei Avot 5:22 ↩︎