I have boundaries. There, I said it.
For a very long time, I didn’t have boundaries. I was constantly available to work, and my mental and physical health declined because of it. I was overworked, addicted to Starbucks, working with a severe sleep deficit, and failing to take adequate care of myself.
This reached a peak in grad school. It’s a big part of the reason I can’t go back. I can’t jeopardize my physical and mental boundaries in that way again.
I was supposed to graduate from my Master of Music degree in Spring 2020. Prior to that semester (and some during that semester), I had composed a recital of chamber music that would never be performed. Much of it still hasn’t, and all that material, some of the best things I have ever written? Languishing somewhere on my computer.
Not a lot of people know this, but I composed two recitals for my graduate degree.
I remember the time I spent composing those works for the second recital, and I remember working myself to the bone. It was relentless, day in and day out. It was The Hustle, an unending barrage of begging people to join consortia that did not entirely fund themselves and drained every ounce of my energy and then some. It was a death spiral into all the habits I have just begun to dismantle, from grading myself to requiring permission to a few more that I haven’t written about yet.
In lockdown, I had nothing to do but write. I had to make a living somehow. I hadn’t graduated on time because the pandemic upended everything. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t rest. I couldn’t have boundaries. I had to take everything I could get. It had to be done.
And I spent two-ish years abusing myself with this mindset.
Eventually, I burned out. In 2022, I composed two works (Three Aviaries and Special). Before then, a typical composing year results in 8-10 works. I spent months of that year trying to reclaim my ability to write after forcing my body and brain to go through so much work and stress. As more and more of this time went on, I realized that I had to accept that I have boundaries.
There’s a great saying that’s the title of this post from The List: you can’t take energy from tomorrow. Our bodies have evolved to need rest, time in which they can heal and regain energy. There is a limit on how much energy we can expend before we need rest, and you can’t take energy from the future and expect to be able to regain that energy during rest. Everyone is different and every day is different and it’s okay for your energy to fluctuate from day to day, but you can’t take energy from tomorrow.
During grad school and the limbo time during pandemic lockdown, I took hundreds no, thousands of hours away from my future. It’s why I needed so much time in 2022 to reclaim them. I’m now in a place where I am at energy equilibrium, and it feels good and healthy. I can take the time to focus my physical health, my emotional safety, and my mental stability and still have time to compose.
My body has limits. My brain has limits. I have limits that I shouldn’t cross, because, if I do, I’ll be taking energy away from a me in the future that needs it.
Going forward, I will only be available to collaborate on weekdays between 12:00 PM and 5:00 PM, Pacific time. I reserve my weekday mornings and weekends for me. That’s the only time interval I’m available for meetings or email. I will not keep any email apps on my phone.
I have boundaries.
I am done with Twitter. Threads is better and safer so far. I am done with TikTok and Snapchat. Going forward, I will only have Instagram and Threads on my phone.
I have boundaries.
I do not take energy from tomorrow. I know my limits and I am the only judge of how much energy I can expend.
I have boundaries.
It is okay to be unavailable to protect your health. It is okay to be mindful of your limits and how the energy you expend affects how you live your live. It is okay to create boundaries and stand by them so that you can thrive instead of merely survive.
I have boundaries.