Yesterday, I made some efforts and worked on my work and ended the day on a proud note. Easily written but know how this action has been hung up in my head, and in my life, by the inaction resulting from saying the very same thing to myself over and over and over again.
You may or may not know that I had a pretty lousy holiday season leaving me exhausted and spent. And I was barely climbing out of the trauma and overwhelm in the beginning weeks of January. Gladly, I completed the required mandatory work of the holidays and there were boundaries set around my availability so that I didn’t need to jump and run as much. But I still wasn’t feeling my creative positive self.
I drone on endlessly in my journal about my lack of motivation. On January 16th I wrote, “There’s my continuing niggle to get to work on something. I’m so dissociated from myself and my ‘work’, I need to do an archaeological dig to find myself again”.
But just because I claim my lack of motivation doesn’t mean I have cured it.
“Whether you think you can, or
you think you can’t –
– Henry Ford–
I write many random and inspired notes in my journal about tasks and projects I could see myself starting. Enough notes to actually get a start. But I wasn’t starting. There was something stuck in my brain’s throat that was not allowing me to make that next step onward. And I think it was, I Can’t.
I can’t because… true to my life, something might happen that will halt all my plans again (taking a look at the possibility that I am in fact the master saboteur of my progress). Not happening because… I have no idea what I am talking about or what I think. Won’t get started because the children/husband/mother might need me. And not starting because I’ll inevitably end up here again where “I’m not excited about anything I’m working on or want to work on”.
All of this Can’ting is easy as it happens quickly in my brain and doesn’t require any follow up work.
But I felt myself getting savvy to this nonsense the other night. I reminded myself of times when I’ve been purposed and proactive. That movement, even the small ones, make me happier. And I recognized that I’d been picking on myself for this stagnation of late. Every day/week, it’s the same self-shame talk. You need to…why aren’t you? And I stopped then and said, let’s map it all out.
I took notes on all of the stuff including the possible and the improbable. I couldn’t wait for it to outline and organize itself. Yesterday morning, I showed up at my whiteboard. In the past, this has become a black hole for uncompleted projects. And the longer the incomplete tasks stay up, the more shame there is. Until finally, I no longer want to go into my craft room where the alltelling whiteboard of doom resides.
I Allowed myself to erase my past and start hoping for and organizing a future that represents joy and writing and community. I stayed with myself and kept thinking about what I wanted to accomplish and how doable all this would be within a given time period. And in the end, I had switched the switch from Can’t to Can.
I hope you will stay with me and enjoy the projects and plans I’ve mapped out!
I miss the feeling of purpose that writing, and my community give me.
If you have any thoughts, please drop a word below in the comments. Or you can…
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