There’s a lot of satisfaction in being able to make decisions about your work.

You get to pick which bits you’re going to work on when, and for how long. Sometimes it takes a lot of trial and error to be able to find a good work routine that yields, but once done, you can get into a good rhythm.

However, for some, too much autonomy can mean a lack of definition of work rhythms and expectations.

With autonomy comes trust and the belief that the work will get done. And that it will be done to a standard that is the same, and hopefully better than it would have been done under close supervision, with controls and measures in place, and with a degree of fear of being found lacking, which generally makes people strive harder to put out something that at least resembles good work.

Autonomy and creativity go hand in hand. For me, feeling in charge of my time (or some of it, at the very least) is an important component of having a creative output. By that I don’t mean I go through life waiting for inspiration to strike. I am well aware that inspiration, or the muse, must be summoned, and that it mostly makes an appearance after you’ve sat yourself down and turned your mind towards the project at hand. But there is an ebb and flow to creative work, and for me, to sit for hours on end expecting creativity to flow out of me at an even pace, like toothpaste being squeezed out of a tube, is unrealistic.

My creativity needs to be nurtured and rested, and so in this time of writing, I structure my day into several smaller bursts of writing, rather than on one big chunk that would leave me drained with my words hanging limp, lacking any spice or flavour. A bit like overcooked veggies. Nowadays, I find myself writing into the late hours of the night, because I have several writing sessions in the day. To squeeze out a high yield in terms of both quality and quantity, I need to come fresh to the page, several times in the day. I need nutrition of the soul as well as the body, and I need to feel rejuvenated.

Another must in the autonomous day is to add in a target, or a deadline. It works well for me to decide what I’d like to achieve in the day, or week, or month. I write that down, giving myself a loose, but at the same time rigid expectation of what I want to achieve. That is insurance against getting to the end of the time available and realising not much got done. Quality control comes next.