It’s one of those perfect Minnesota winter days today: a few inches of snow fell last night, snow still falling in the morning, the fluffy sticky snow that makes everything gorgeous. After getting the kids onto the school bus, I settled in to my cozy reading chair in my living room, next to the big window so that I could watch the snow fall, with a big pot of tea, a fuzzy blanket, a snuggly cat, some research reading, and the latest issue of Interactions.
90 minutes later, I’d finished my research reading and Interactions, made an extensive to-do list for my newest research project, sketched out two new Comps (capstone) project ideas, and jotted down a few new ideas for my teaching in our summer program.
Only the reading and the making of the to-do list were on my agenda for the day. The rest were completely serendipitous.
I’ve made reading a priority during my sabbatical, because I rarely make time for it in my typical work life. Reading is often a serendipitous exercise for me, particularly if I’m reading within my field but not specifically for my research. Skimming through an issue of Communications of the ACM a few years back inspired me to embark on the research project I’ve been working on for the past few years. Flipping through books that randomly show up in my office has inspired at least 3 different Comps projects over the years. Reading within my research area also leads to serendipitous ideas. While reviewing the literature for my last submitted conference paper, I identified a hole in our understanding of the problem that I wasn’t even looking for — which led to the project I’m now embarking on, an entirely new line of inquiry.
The act of reading serves as an act of reflection for me. I let my mind wander productively as I read. The ideas on the page mix with ideas I didn’t even know I’ve been carrying around, new connections form, and new avenues appear. I sketch diagrams in the margins, make lists and outlines, save quotes, highlight sources to look up later. Reading in this way becomes a form of productive brainstorming for me, except somehow the ideas come out more fully formed than when I’m just brainstorming.
So if reading broadly is such a productively creative act for me, why don’t I make more time for it? Because it’s not as urgent as the other tasks on my list. Because it doesn’t directly contribute to moving my research forward. Because if I only have a limited amount of time to devote to research, it seems more prudent to spend it on something that will directly impact my research, like coding or writing or analyzing data.
But the truth is, reading does contribute to my research — and my teaching, and my service, too. Time for reflection is vital to remaining an active, engaged researcher and teacher. And as the past few years of burnout have taught me, time for reflection is key to remaining sane and creative in my work life, too.
Even though I still have months left of sabbatical, I’ve already started reflecting on what I want my work life to look like when I return next year. Making time to read on a regular basis will definitely be part of that vision.