At one point I started this column and I was on fire.
Three posts a week, no brainer, loving the flow. Funny, eloquent (at least some of the readers thought so…) and then it got hard again. Nothing really changed in my life but a cosmic shift happened which occurs with writers. The ability to make time for the writing got a handicap.
I was suddenly incapable of getting to the computer three times a week to write fun and stimulating content. Then the fear gripped me in a couple ways… all insidious and absolutely not helpful. First, that I didn’t have it in me to follow through with this dream column and the impulse to start one in the first place should have been just that, and as important as the desire to drive across LA for a vanilla vegan donut.
The second fear was failure. Failure to accomplish the magic twist and turn that makes that one post go viral. That because I like to relax, have fun, date my boyfriend, laugh with my kids and binge Fleabag, I will be excluded from that group of columnists who went that extra mile to go to the Substack “how to market” webinar. I think not having a life and success still go hand in hand when it comes to writing and that is some archaic old bullshit thinking. If a webinar to change my life comes on my radar, and I am in the zone to know more information to next level, I’ll make it happen. But if I think I should be out wandering in a cactus garden smelling the emoting scent of herbal flowers, I am hard pressed to believe I have done anything wrong. Or I am purposely sabotaging myself and this is all radical denial.
My point is, writing consistently takes a shit ton of mental work and perseverance because anything, I mean anything can take you down from the sudden impulse to solve the fact that you own an old wallet and need a new one ASAP, to the idea that no one reads your column so why bother. I did these fake nails for a trip to Vegas and how impossible they are to type in has been a huge issue for me. Stopped me from writing. You can’t have fancy nails and try and write 15 pages of a book a day or a column three times a week. So I have to stop getting acrylic nails which is sad but maybe I can get more tattoos instead (ha! not happening.)
I know what is going on here is I shouldn’t even be talking this way because I coach people every week to take their writing seriously and covet it and to trust they will have readers… which I believe, but I don’t have a coach so I have to coach myself which is a big disaster.
Let’s take today for example. My 18 year old who is going to college in 18 days (but who is counting) is sick and didn't know how to call in because it’s some weird distribution center for Starbucks so I, mother of the hour, agreed to combine my afternoon walk with a pass by to tell them she is sick. Translate, time wasted to not write this column. Then I came back and wanted to write but the Sun Spires from the bulk bin at Sprouts had me up not once but three times to snack (just fucking commit to the whole bag.) Then I needed to do some work, and then, and then and then.
Bloody hell. It’s like driving a mail truck up hill in a mud slide sometimes.
But I have in fact written even if the whole time it is complaining about how I have been slacking. Also, let me give this post a subject header..
I don’t care what people think about me anymore. I like myself for the most part and I don’t apologize for requesting what I need and want especially when I have been kind and asked permission to speak my truth. I noticed when I stopped demanding and being offended, even when the barista with an attitude doesn’t like when I ask for my half caf to be hotter (and not a macchiato which I didn’t even request), it can be cordial. I almost have found self-deprecation to be a brilliant tool to off set people who want to really not like you. “Whoops there I go again” or “I guess I am THAT Sunday customer” can get you back into the good graces of pretty much anyone.
And when I am offered a $10 coupon by the supermarket, but the cashier doesn’t know how to ring it up and looks at me like I should just blow it off or she has to call a manager, I say “I am getting that $10 off.” and she says, “Okay honey, calm down, I have to call someone.” And then I clam up because everything is working out in my favor so why am I still talking? I don’t need her to know I AM calm, she is just having some trigger to a lack of calmness that pervades her life. Then I can pray for her silently because who doesn’t need a good prayer.
So this column is where I can say all the stuff I shouldn’t say out into the world that no one cares about and just causes me to not get lattes hot or coupons for $10. So I just smile and act like I know what a pain I am while I am secretly very pleased.
Anyway, what is the moral of today’s story? There isn’t one because that is not the format of this column, but I thought I would add that in in case you got excited and wrote me and asked for me to include one.
Have a great week! Write and make sure you get what you want and need out there. Life is short.
And I am done doing graphics with the posts. I thought it mattered but I don’t think it does and it’s just a time suck.
I absolutely LOVE this post because I think it's great for other writers to understand that motivation will sometimes come and go ! It's perfectly normal and healthy to live a balanced life! Recognizing this is important! Before you know it you will be feverishly writing again!!!