just start
a lesson in getting out of my own way ft. hi! i missed us
it’s been a little while. i knew it would be. april and the beginning of may were very very full. i recognized it would be this way. i tried my best to plan for it. and yet, despite my best intentions, it was still so hard while also being so incredibly wonderful. both can exist at once, something im constantly reminding myself of.
i shared a bit about this feeling on the IG above, but still owe myself some noodling on this very topic - so stay tuned for that in the future.
and now that the dust has settled again and my days and calendar don’t feel nearly as full (read: still full just not as incomprehensibly full), i find i haven’t been able to get back into the rituals and routines that i was missing during this busier season. in fact, i find myself actively resisting and avoiding them. self sabotage? burn out? im not exactly sure the reason. but to know the things i need / want to do and yet have this crippling inability to start any one of those things is a special type of uncomfortable. and that’s exactly where i’ve been living lately.
chief amongst the rituals i’ve been avoiding getting back into is this writing practice.
at the start of this, i was intentional about not putting any parameters or expectations around how often, how, and when i would share on here. of all the things we have to do as adults, i didn’t want to put any undue pressure on something that’s supposed to be creative, explorative, vulnerable, and ultimately for me. because i knew that once i did, this platform and this practice would lose its sanctity. it would become a chore rather than something i get to do.
i can confidently say that no part of this initial intention has been lost. so i know that feeling pressure is not where this avoidance is coming from. i’m not rebelling against this thing that i have to do.
instead… 4-5 weeks is really not a long time, but i’ve noticed it’s been enough to create this resistance to getting quiet, being still, opening my laptop, and just starting. the reality is this is still a new thing for me and the second i fall out of practice it feels like i’m starting all over again from scratch. the boulder, back at the bottom of the hill, waiting for me to push.
i’ve also noticed that i’ve been slightly more willing to engage in the other practices - journaling, meditation, breathwork, gratitude - but they have all felt forced and ingenuine in a way. almost like i knew i was using them to avoid this moment right here, by telling myself see im trying, im doing the things!! and it’s not working! i still feel like meh! (read: frustrated, ungrateful, sour, tired, and in. a. mood.)
in sitting with this now, i’m finding the resistance was stemming a little from this doubt of who even cares (?), a little from the beliefs i’ve always held that writing does not come easily to me and that i’m not good at it, a little more from the plain and simple truth that writing takes me a good amount of time and i’m uncomfortable with the amount of time that it takes (bc time is ‘money’ & money equivalents), but MOSTLY from the overall awkwardness of feeling rusty and out of practice. i think of the analogy of getting yourself to work out for the first time after a period away from it often because it’s a feeling i know well. and because of this i also know that the moment / resistance leading up to it is always harder than the moment / action itself.
so. just. start.
that’s what this post is. this is me…just starting…once again. and to let you in on a little secret - there is no limit to (or shame in) how many times we can start or begin again.
this afternoon, i resolved that the most digestible way for me to start again would be to just be unapologetically honest about where i’m at. right here, right now. to share about the intimidation i feel to write again and the rut i seem to be in now that the weddings, the move out of nyc, and the busy are over. how this subtle fear has kept me on the sidelines from starting again and feeling stuck because of it. how this quiet period that i’ve been looking forward to (desperately) is finally here… and now feels a bit daunting because of just that. so that’s what this post is too.
and just like that, in writing the first two sentences today i felt the resistance begin to dissolve, the friction fade away, and as we are nearing the end now i’m feeling the ease return. to which i *very hesitantly* say WE BACK BABY!
thank you for allowing me the space to be real, dissolve the resistance, and get tf out of my own way. there’s so much for us to catch up on and i’m feeling rejuvenated and excited to do just that.
but first off to London with my sisters — exactly 10 years from my first and only trip there and maybe 5 since our first and only sisters trip to australia.
plus, the scene of my whole lot of nothing MDW
and shes perfect… (even if i didnt take the covers off of all the furniture).
ily a milli, xx em