Quite a few years ago I heard about the idea of incorporating 'margins' into your life and the idea stuck with me so well that I think I do that automatically now, build in a space around the edges of my days that is. In fact, when I don't do it, such as the past two weeks, I can feel it, feel the edges pushing in. I get uncomfortable.
Wait, maybe you haven't heard about margins. Okay, let me back up and explain for a minute then; everyone should know about this. Margins on a piece of paper are those spaces around the edges that you aren't supposed to write on, and the author of the 'life with margins' concept argued that your days, your life in general, should have built in spaces of time; you shouldn't have things planned for every last moment you have available. I don't remember exactly what the reasons were that the inventor gave but personally I can say that having a margin of time around and throughout my day allows me to have 'emergency room' in case I'm needed somewhere. It lets me breathe deeply as an introvert, knowing I don't have to be 'on' all the time. It gives me a break. It lets me enjoy life rather than hurriedly moving from one task or location to another. It saves me.
What margins in my life look like are blank spaces that don't contain anything. No plans, no meals, nothing required of me. And I achieve this by simply not filling up on activities and things to do. I don't like to rush and feel hurried and scattered. I often feel rushed and hurried and scattered, but the plan is not to.
Anyway, the past few weeks have been so incredibly full of stuff that I can't remember all of the things I need to do. I need margins.
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