Entering Another Depth Year
I was overwhelmed. I had given myself too many hobbies, too many work projects, too much to do. My bookshelves were full of books I’d bought and wanted to read but for which I didn’t make the time. Same with my video game library, and oh gosh, must we talk about the board game library also? In short, everything was too much. And I needed to feel like there was less on my plate.
I was a new mom, only about a year into motherhood, and even then I’d given myself a lot to do — a lot of pressure on top of the constant lifestyle adjustments I was making on behalf of my daughter. In all fairness, I have done this all my life. I always expect so much and overwhelm myself constantly. Turns out it’s just my nature.
But that doesn’t make it any easier, and unfortunately I don’t even realize I’m doing it in the moment. Sometimes it takes me a while to think ‘huh, all of these projects are really great and I’d love to do them, but I can’t manage all of this myself.’ I am but one woman, after all.
And then I read an article about a concept I’d never heard of before: the depth year.
The idea of intentionally focusing deeper on the things which already existed in my life instead of seeking out new pursuits was everything I needed at the time. (Spoiler alert: I need it again this year also — more on that at the end of the post.)
A peacock made of various grasses, plants, and flowers; taken by me at the Dallas Arboretum
Once I committed to my depth year, I chose a few areas in which I wanted to focus on:
I craved deeper relationships with family and friends.
I wanted to read the books and play the games I already had instead of buying new ones.
It was important to me to focus more time on my fiction writing skills than any other hobbies or side hustles I was taking on. (This includes game development, as it was a new skill to me at the time — it ended up being put off in favor of my writing.)
I yearned for a deeper understand of the subjects I was already interested in and currently researching, not trying to find new things to get into or going down rabbit holes.
I needed to finish my current projects (writing and otherwise) instead of getting distracted by new, shiny ideas.
Another aspect that was important to me, and which I felt went hand-in-hand with my depth year was having a no-buy in place. My rules were to:
Only replace things that were beyond repair, not buy anything extra. In some cases (like clothing), two items had to be deemed unwearable to allow me to purchase one item.
Refrain from unnecessary purchases for the full year, though if something came up then of course I would be able to make the purchase. (Emergencies happen, unexpected things occur — if I had traveled and needed something then I’d get the thing. For the purposes of my depth year, these were restraints on everyday life, not extraneous circumstances.)
The results were interesting.
By not setting up mom friend/play dates with new people via Peanut, I was able to focus more attention on the connections I had already made. Some relationships were able to deepen, while others ended up being more superficial — and to be fair, I think this is the case with a lot of mom friends, because we know we’re trying it out to see if the kids are a good fit. With these kinds of relationships, it’s not always about whether the adults are a good friend match.
Focusing more on my writing was honestly productive as heck. I ended up writing for 4-6 hours during weekends instead of filling that time with other (perhaps less productive) activities. (Note: Some of this depth year took place during 2020 when staying home all day every day and avoiding outings for the sake of health and public safety was the norm.)
I spent a lot of time working through existing projects, actually finishing them, and submitting them for publications. I self-published some of my novels and short stories (under a pen name). I felt productive and fulfilled and so glad to not be surrounded by incomplete drafts.
And now I’m doing it again.
It’s end of March, not January like when we normally think of embarking on a new ‘year,’ but this is the time when it’s become obvious to me that I need another depth year, so today is when I’m starting. I believe this idea spurred to life as this past week I’ve been spring cleaning, and that reignited by desire to simplify (which, in a way, is exactly what a depth year is: an invitation to simplify).
I want to apply the same rules for this year as I did a few years back — a no-buy except for necessities and replacements, a dedication to finishing existing projects instead of starting new ones, an intention to read books I already own and play the games I already own (without purchasing new ones), and — most important — to continue to deepen my current relationship with my family and friends.
The dedication to completing projects works well for this year as last year I spent the majority of my work time drafting and ended up with a total word count for 2021 of 317,458 words. That’s not a small number (though my goal had been 462,000). So, for this year? Turns out I have 317,458 words to continue to move through, to reread and edit and revise over and over again until the projects are finished. I hope to have publication news for you later this year, and I’m confident that this depth year is going to help me reach my goals.
xx Katie
A question for you to answer in the comments: Would you (or have you in the past) try a depth year?
