In getting myself ready to share a guest lecture on arts grants with Lance LaDuke's class, I realized it might be helpful to share my notes publicly so all of us (especially those of us in Pgh or in PA) can make some educated grabs for funding. Without further ado: 

This August, for the first time in five years, I took a long vacation. For nine days I didn’t check email and enjoyed the still summer air with my husband and dog. And, ironically, I thought a lot about work.
 
A freelancer’s life can easily make you an opportunist, grabbing at any good gigs coming your way and rearranging your days suddenly to fit all of it in. I had been getting up earlier and earlier, starting on the hardest task at 6 a.m. in an effort to get ahead.
 
But I wasn’t getting ahead at my actual craft, I was getting ahead at completing my work. My development was shaped by the assignments and concerts that came along, not by my own goals.
 
So I came back from vacation with a new plan. The First Four Hours Plan. My goals? To work on my book. To perform music with more ease.
 
Here’s how I’m working on those goals:  
 
I get up at 6 a.m. Monday through Friday, and head straight to make coffee. I meditate. And then I start writing my book. I open the back blinds, and watch the black sky ease into a blue. I usually only have around an hour before I hear some small pleading noises from my puppy.
 
I give him a quick walk, take an even quicker shower, and head to my studio. The next two hours I practice.
 
I’m done by 10:15-10:30 a.m. every day, depending on the puppy, the traffic, and if there’s a second cup of coffee needed. (There is. Always.)
 
I chose an early morning schedule for several reasons -- my existing work all took place in the afternoon (arts residencies are often after school). I’ve never had any trouble scheduling meetings from 10:45 a.m. through the rest of the day.
 
Sometimes, of course, a group will have a 10 a.m. rehearsal. I do an abbreviated version of my schedule those days. And some days, when I have a late performance and a long day of work and performances the next day, I let myself sleep. But for 99% of days these past few months, this has been my morning schedule.
 
My takeaways? First, I am privileged to be able to do this. I do have the income to set aside time every morning to work on my craft(s). To have four hours a day that I don’t have to squeeze every dime out of my time -- that’s a blessing. It hasn’t always been that way.
 
I have to try very hard to not think about this time as “unpaid.” Because doing this makes all my paid work easier. Write a 2,500 word feature? No problem. The structure, the phrasing, teasing out the meaning of the story -- all of it feels at the tip of my tongue after a morning writing session. And when a gig recently asked me to create drum set parts for three songs by the next rehearsal, I had the time to do it, the schedule to play along with as many recordings as I could, and the head space to not (completely) freak out about the new additions.
 
Clear incremental progress toward a goal is really gratifying. I have 15,000 words done on a book. I’m about to record an hour’s worth of marimba music without too much dread rising in my throat. Those things weren’t true before I started this routine. And it’s created a domino effect -- I’ve attracted more stable work that fits my schedule. Most importantly, it has given my over-working, over-striving brain some peace. Before it had been on the endless treadmill to be busy and make money, and now it has time to simply create, bit by bit, every day.
 
 
3 Quick Tips:

1. Find the same time every day. My brain doesn’t protest, even with the early wake-up call, because this is now its new normal. It’s easier and faster for me to get in the groove because I do it every day at the same time.
2. Set large goals to create your time frame, and small goals to fill your actual time. I needed a lot of time for my book and my practice, hence, the four hours. Each week I assess my progress and set new goals.
3. Schedule some leeway. I’m writing this one purely for myself -- whenever I start these type of new self-improvement projects, I can be insufferable, dragging myself out of bed sick or exhausted by performing schedules. As much as I love seeing the improvements, I’m hoping to regularly schedule 5-10% wiggle room so that I don’t burn out trying to keep my four hours a day.