A Tower of One’s Own
have a certain theory, called “The Achievable-ish Alternate Reality.” Basically, I ask a person,
“If you could just stop living life as you know it right this second, and choose an entirely different reality, what would it look like?”
I use this question to uncover their hidden desires in life, and then we discuss. It is usually pretty accurate and if not, a fantastic conversation, to say the least.
Mine has always been: Solitude, somewhere in the woods. I have built my own cottage from the ground up and it is filled with little trinkets and obscure items I have found throughout my travels. I make ceramics for a living and dedicate my life to creative pursuits without worry of anything but that.
When I read about Carl Jung’s Bollingen Tower, where he retreated in 1922, to focus on his work, I recalled that escapist fantasy of mine, and realized that it was my own idealized version of Jung’s tower.
It is strangely perfect timing that Cal Newport’s, Deep Work, is the text we are analyzing in my first course of grad school, Foundations of Graduate Studies. The concepts that surround the very subject are skills I have been trying to hone for a while, both in my personal and professional spheres. I have developed a schedule that prioritizes at least 2-4 hours of “work time.” earlier in the day. At 10am my phone switches to “downtime” mode and locks me out of my unnecessary apps. If I really need the time, I will even hide my phone on the top shelf of my closet, and work in a different room, with no distractions – a makeshift tower, if you will.
It sounds excessive, I know. But hey, it works.
I have always been extremely distractible. Recently diagnosed with ADHD, I lived most of my life wondering why I just could not get it together, but produced quality work at the very last second. Well, it was a combination of that disorder that turned my attention every which way, gifted-kid burnout, and living through the digital age.
I had to relearn a lot. Like Michael Harris discusses in his article, “I Have Forgotten How to Read” published in The Globe and Mail, I too had once loved reading while growing up, but found myself struggling to retain a page of a required text during my undergraduate studies. It was baffling to me. Harris wrote,
“I do think old, book-oriented styles of reading opened the world to me – by closing it. And new, screen-oriented styles of reading seem to have the opposite effect: They close the world to me, by opening it.”
Michael Harris
I had a very similar epiphany just a couple years back. I wished deeply to return to the life I once knew, only to find my way back to a locked door, no longer accessible to this new version of myself. I realized that I bought more books than I actually read that year, and felt a bit fraudulent. But one thing I did note is that I had just become accustomed to a new reading style. I actually read all day – articles, news blurbs, tweets, emails, messages – I was reading, but the format had changed.
This is where Newport’s Deep Work converges with this issue. Just like technology has accustomed us to “Shallow Work –” tasks that can be performed while distracted, requiring little cognitive labor – we have also become accustomed to a shallow form of reading. If a novel is Deep Work, a tweet is Shallow Work.
Finding my way to Deep Work is something I am thrilled to have an opportunity to actually pursue, especially in an academic setting. In my wildest dreams, I am a transcendentalist that has retreated to Walden Pond, like Henry David Thoreau. I am Virginia Woolf, writing A Room of One’s Own. I am building my own little towers everywhere I go.
In Tarot, “The Tower” card is known to symbolize drastic change – a world turned upside down. It is a frightening message to receive, often an unwelcome one. The traditional artwork depicts a tower, struck by lightning, flames peaking out through the windows, and a large crack splitting the structure. Destruction awaits.
But what if it’s the destruction of old patterns that simply do not benefit you anymore? All the old behaviors and measures you may have taken, that perhaps once served as a means of survival, a coping mechanism, a comfort – what if it’s growth?
Re-learning how to better my own practices, and unlearning the unhealthy ones requires great practice. I am still learning and I still make old mistakes every now and then. That’s okay. I am building a tower in my home, giving myself the space to prioritize the work that is truly important to me.
In a way, we all have towers in our lives – ones we must build, and others that await their inevitable destruction.