I’m really good at telling other people to give themselves grace. I’ve done so many things that mean so much more than a clean kitchen does. I know that. I understand that. There is a moment, though, where I’ve done a thousand things, but the one thing I ignored just stares me in the face and reminds me that I do not, in fact, have it together.
Killing Ghosts has been a hard process. It’s never easy to put yourself out there entirely. It’s scary and hard and I’m constantly worried what people will think. Or worse, that they won’t think about it at all. If you’re a writer or an artist in any way, you know that you don’t really have…
What if you are the only one to let yourself go there? What if there’s a reason you haven’t seen other people talk about this? What if this is entirely wrong and it falls flat? What if you fall flat?
We all have lists. The to do lists. The unending, rolling collection of things we have to do or need to do or want to do. The one that seems to get longer, no matter how many things we check off. First, I’m hella ADHD. Second, I’m busy. I flit through my day, hyper-focusing on…
Things are harder than they should be because people are messy and this is all complicated. We crash into each other and there is conflict or synergy and it’s impossible to know which you’ll find until you’ve already collided.
When I take a hard look at my own expectations, I realize that a lot of them are based on comparison. Specifically, comparison to people who are not me. When other people say things about their lack of productivity, my reaction would be “You are writing. You don’t have to follow anybody else’s timeline.” I would remind them of everything else they are doing. Why can I not accept that advice in the context of my own journey?
A funny thing happens when I start to write about the things that are in my head. Articulating irrational things makes them seem, well, irrational. Irrational things don’t hold up to the clarity of text.