I can’t remember who it was, but someone once told me, “If you wake up in the middle of the night and have a hard time falling back asleep, just get up and do something.” I think of this idea whenever it happens to me, which, luckily, is rare. But tonight, as I cuddled Elena back to sleep after an unnecessary 2 AM diaper check, I thought I’d try it.
First, I curled my hair because #ClassPhotoDay, and as I did, I listened to a podcast episode with the one I tend to turn to in moments of creative despair. The person who gently nudges me whenever I feel disappointed for letting another day go by without sitting down to write the flying and persistent ideas that might as well leave me and find a more deserving human. You know I’m talking about Liz Gilbert if you got those clues. Who, by the way, shaved her head and all I can think of is the irony in hearing her reasons to shave it while I style mine.
Once my hair was good enough, I sat by the window in my living room and closed ALL tabs on my browser. As I did that and always do when I intend to blog, I thought of George Curous. His encouragement always grabs me by the shoulders as a sports coach would, and that’s when his practicality met Gilbert’s mysticism. Yes, Liz inspires me, but I often rise a bit too high with all the inspiration to do anything. It’s sort of like a kid with too much Halloween candy. Which one should I eat first?
George had the answer, and it’s been delivered to my inbox weekly for years. What if I borrowed his “3 things” template? And what if I asked someone to be my accountability partner? What if I started tonight?
Thursdays feel like a good weekday for it.
So here it is (Thanks, George!): Something Personal, Something Professional, and Something Profound. I’ll keep each one short to avoid overextending myself on this post.
Something Personal
I knew motherhood would bring a new thick layer of decision-making into my life, but how unaware I was. I tend to become obsessed with things, and since Elena was born, it’s been harder to tame the beast. Whether it’s her daycare naps, the never-ending illness cycle, or the amount of liquid she consumes daily. I go from one worry to another, and the rational side of my brain taps its fingers on the table while waiting for the emotional side to end its rant.
No one has to tell me to relax. I know I have to. Am I working on it? Yes. Is it easier some days? For sure. Is it more manageable when Elena laughs? Absolutely. Do I still need help with balancing typical concerns with useless overthinking? *sigh*
I can’t (and don’t want to) completely eliminate that part of me because it keeps me objective. I just need to lean on those less obsessive around me whenever I notice the beast getting a bit too rowdy.
Something Professional
I think it’ll be interesting to dive into the three big ideas I’ve been watching dance in my head for the past few months. In fact, before I started this post, I started three drafts on the blog to define what they’ll be about while releasing some of the anguish that comes from Gibert’s loud message: If you ignore your idea, it might just go find another human.
These are the three topics I’m focusing on as professional growth this year (don’t ask me yet how I’m doing it):
- Homework
- Meeting facilitating
- Rediscovering Writer’s Workshop on the first month of school
Something Profound
Whenever I listen to a book that makes me question life decisions, I tend to bring the ideas up in any conversation I can. The ideas from that book also find their way into daily happenings. The book currently doing that for me is The Self-Driven Child by William Stixrud and Ned Johnson. What the authors dissect in it is so valuable yet so foreign to the lives of many people in my life, myself included. I don’t know if it’s my “fix-it-now” tendency, but as I listen (and after coming out of awe), I want to tell everyone about what I just learned.
Maybe I should avoid falling into unsolicited preaching. Maybe that’s my lesson learned in this brief rant.
There. Three things. Thanks, George.
I think I can do this again next week. And by “doing this again,” I hope to skip the 2 AM random awake window.
Start with a Story 