Writing Productivity During a Pandemic

The Fallacy of Productivity

You may have seen the memes on social media, things like Shakespeare having written King Lear while quarantined during the plague. Or heard of people using this time of sheltering-in-place to learn or perfect a new skill. Or to dive into that stack of books they’ve been meaning to read. Or to write a book. Oh, and home improvement projects, too! To the casual (or not-so-casual) observer, it all speaks to so much PRODUCTIVITY.

You might be sitting at home thinking, “Why aren’t I as productive as everyone else? Why am I struggling to get out of bed and walk in my pajamas to my ‘office’ across the hall? Why am I struggling to complete basic tasks, like laundry, vacuuming, or doing dishes?” For me, my creative output has been zilch. Stories to revise, stories to submit to journals…none of it is happening. (In addition to this creative decline, I also just moved and am surrounded by boxes and a disorganization so profound that it feels distinctly like the opposite of productivity.)

The fact of the matter, though, is that you don’t have to be productive right now. Teachers thrown into online teaching don’t have to shine at it; they just have to get by. Parents thrown into homeschooling their children don’t have to create lesson plans; they just have to do what they can. We’re all just doing what we can. Whether you have to physically go to work because you’re considered essential or whether you’ve been furloughed from your job or whether you’re working from home, the fact of the matter is that many people are anxious, depressed, fearful; the fact of the matter is that many of us are experiencing grief at different levels.

Many of us simply cannot be as productive when we’re dealing with stress and the emotional toll of a worldwide crisis, such as COVID-19.

And that’s okay. It really is.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

I’m not a psychologist, but I do remember my basic psychology course from college twenty-five years ago. For many people, but maybe especially writers, artists, and other creative types, our vision of what “productivity” means falls within the top level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, that being the level of “self-actualization.” For me, being creative often equals being productive. And I haven’t felt that spark of creativity for many weeks. That “spark of creativity,” though, is part of my essence–part of what makes me feel like me. I feel empty without it.

At the same time, though, I have it better than a lot of people. I already work from home; my job–my business–is intact. I have both shelter and food. All my basic needs are met. But you know what I feel? Guilt. I feel guilt for feeling empty when I have so much to be thankful for. I can only imagine what it must feel like to not have your basic needs met–basic needs are the foundation of Maslow’s hierarchy. And right above that is safety and security. One’s health falls under safety. It’s frightening to go to the grocery store and think: Does that person have the virus? Is the virus living on this bag of chips? This is followed by: Am I being paranoid? Crazy? Too obsessed with cleanliness? (The answer is no.)

Not only that, but we don’t know when any of this will end. We may not have confidence in the people in charge. We may read the scientific articles and understand fully what we’re up against, yet we may feel frustration with the people who don’t seem to get it, who instead gather in groups on the beach or as a congregation in a church. This insecurity paints itself as anger, frustration, and heightened anxiety.

It’s been said that naming your emotions can help alleviate some of the anxiety that you’re feeling about an event or situation. For me, it helps to state bluntly and honestly what I miss. To do this, though, I have to let go of the guilt I experience for being seemingly petty or simplistic.

What I Miss

I miss people. I enjoy the Zoom meetings and social-media interactions just fine, but I miss people. In-person people. I went for a run today and was so delighted to see other people out (all keeping our distance); we all waved, said, “Hi!” It seems clear that other people miss people, too. And if you’re following Maslow’s hierarchy, this sense of socialization–of belonging, of interacting–is right there above safety and security, another step closer to self-actualization.

I miss art, poetry, and other cultural events. I’m typically inspired by other creative people. Book readings, poetry readings, art shows, museums. Is this why my own creativity is lagging right now?

I miss being able to go to coffeehouses. To work among other people and not just alone (albeit with my dog) in my house.

I miss traveling. I had planned to go the ACES National Conference (an editing conference) at the end of April, a conference that was, of course, cancelled. I miss experiencing new places and new situations and meeting new people.

It’s Okay to Feel

I’m thankful for what I have. I’m SO grateful. But it’s okay to be both thankful and sad.

It’s okay to grieve. Many have lost jobs, family members, and access to basic needs and safety. Allow yourself to grieve.

It’s okay to not be writing or reading. I’ve heard people say that we *should* be journaling–recording history as it unfolds–but it’s okay to not be doing that, too. A lot of people are just trying to get through each day.

It’s okay not to blog. It took me a long time to finally sit down and write this post. I had to process my feelings first, which I did in an early draft. Writing is therapeutic, but it’s hard to write if your mind is spinning.

It’s okay to feel numb or to feel everything all at once.

Allow yourself to feel what you feel.

I write these things not just for my readers but also for myself, as a way of breaking out of what feels like an unproductive slump. The world–our lives–have changed, and we don’t know when anything will be “normal” again.

But “normal” is subjective anyway. You need only be as productive as you’re able to be, regardless of whether there’s a pandemic or not.

• 

•