Observations

This month, I tried weekday blogging for the first time. I set myself a goal of writing an observational blog post Monday through Thursday, with link round-up posts on Fridays. I put this goal in my bullet journal and on Asana, and today (the last Thursday of the month), I get to check it off both places. Two major hits of dopamine! A job well done!

I’m flagging this now because I know that once I click that checkbox, there’ll be a huge part of me that feels like I’m off the hook. Cool, we did it! We accomplished the goal of weekday blogging, so we’re done now, right? I can feel how badly I want to give myself a pat on the back and call it a day. And while I probably should give myself a pat on the back (daily writing is hard!), I definitely don’t want to call it a day. 

I think I’m in a version of Seth Godin’s The Dip: the bump in the road where I feel very much at risk of falling off the wagon. Where it would be so easy to forget why I started in the first place and just move on to something else. Because I don’t want that to happen, I need to remind myself of why I started in the first place.

The whole point of this goal was to establish a new habit for myself, a habit that ideally continues hereafter whether or not there’s a finish line, or a checkbox or an external prize. No, the prizes are all internal: a feeling of attunement with my life. A consistent writing practice. More awareness and a deeper integration of my lessons. 

So I’m leaving myself with these words from Seth: “If you can get through the Dip, if you can keep going when the system is expecting you to stop, you will achieve extraordinary results.”

One of my Super Seven daily practices is “Zero-In Time”, a name I coined this week because I’m obsessed with naming things. It seems silly, but I think naming things properly actually helps me take them more seriously and stay more committed.

“Zero-In Time” is what it sounds like: time with zero things coming into my brain from other people’s brains. Time alone with my thoughts and senses. And of course I love the double-entendre, because I think this practice will also help me “zero in” on what’s most important, glean new insights, and come up with new ideas.

When I interviewed Sarah Von Bargen, she talked about how having this kind of time every day is an important part of her creative process. She walks her dogs and doesn’t bring her phone, or she’ll drive without listening to the radio. And I’ve also heard other cool people talk about similar things! Back in 2016 on the Happier podcast, Moby recommended going into nature without bringing your phone. Jocelyn K. Glei talks often on her podcast about doing things without being tethered to her phone. One of my favourite books of last year, Solitude, is all about finding more space without any external inputs.

But as often as I’ve been exposed to this idea, I’ve struggled to implement it for myself. The biggest problem is that I LOVE inputs from other people’s brains. It’s my #1 biggest strength in the StrengthsFinder framework! It’s as easy as breathing for me to consume new ideas and information. So when faced with a walk, or time in the kitchen, or free time, it’s a challenge to not immediately fill it with a podcast, a conversation, a book or a video.

Thus, I’m adding it to my daily list of habits! I’m expecting to resist it at first, but am hoping that the peace, quiet, and inspiration it brings me are enough to perpetuate the habit. The universe abhors a vacuum, so maybe creating one will let the ideas flow in.

The last couple weeks have not been my best when it comes to self-care. I haven’t been eating overly well, I’ve been sleeping too much, and I’ve been watching too much TV. When I don’t take care of myself properly, I don’t feel my best, no matter how much inspirational book-reading or podcast-listening or conversation-having that I do simultaneously. 

There’s a massive difference between self-care and self-indulgence, and lately I think I’ve been doing too much of the latter. Self-indulgence is short-term gratification, self-care is long-term investment in your wellbeing. I learned this difference so, SO long ago (it was even in this ebook I wrote in 2012, which is no longer available!) but just because we know something doesn’t mean we consistently remember it.

One of my favourite practical strategies for true self-care is Amy Young‘s Sacred Six practice. She sets herself six non-negotiable self-care activities that address fundamental aspects of her wellbeing, and commits to doing them daily. This is where the work of self-care comes in: it’s not always pretty and fun and full of bubbles. Sometimes it means doing exactly the activities you’re resisting, because you know that ultimately they will increase your happiness long-term. You can learn more about her method here.

I had tried to set myself a Sacred Six back in December, but didn’t stick to it because I didn’t personalize it enough to ME. I essentially tweaked Amy’s list, but without enough customization for my life. This time around, I’m adding in new items that feel relevant to this season of my life, with a plan to revisit them in a few months.

I also really, really don’t like the number 6 (don’t ask me why!), but I love the number 7 (it’s my birthday), so a change was made. “Sacred” is not my favourite word either – I love sacredness as a concept but am not a fan of the word itself (how it sounds/looks). Yes, I’m weird! Hence, the Super Seven are born.

Here are my Super Seven: 

1. Zero-In Time: time with no external input (from music, podcasts, conversations, screens), not counting my meditation practice
2. Journal OR blog post
3. Sweat OR stretch
4. Eat meals without screens: no more eating in front of the TV
5. 7–11: wake-up & lights-out times
6. Nature time: forest or lake or park
7. Eat green vegetables

I’m looking for a solid, free habit-tracking app so that I can check all seven off every day, but most of them only allow you to track a couple daily habits. Otherwise, I might try to track these daily habits in Asana!

What would your Sacred Six or Super Seven be?

Yesterday on a podcast, I heard a line that I’m paraphrasing here: “The true sign of mastery over yourself is whether you can overcome discouragement.”

This strikes me as a very good definition for resilience, as well. The dictionary defines resilience as “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties”, and discouragement as “a loss of confidence or enthusiasm.” Put another way, discouragement happens when you face difficulties, and your resilience and mastery over yourself determine when and how quickly you’ll regain your faith and excitement after a disappointment. Our self-mastery and our resilience are linked.

When I think about what makes me resilient, I think first of my relationships. When something hard or disappointing happens, I am completely and utterly spoiled for people I can text or call or meet up with for support. I sometimes forget how lucky I am to have such deep friendships and such a strong network, and that not everyone is so lucky. It’s often in exactly those moments when I realize just how loved I really am.

I also think of my tools, the concepts and activities that I collect here on the blog and on the podcast. The reason I read so much and listen to podcasts so much and try to have deep conversations so much is that when I do, I usually glean a powerful insight or tool that will help me on this journey called life. All these tools and ideas build my resilience: they give me ways to cope with my discouragement, my doubts, my fatigue.

Discouragement is a part of life, but learning to feel it, process it, and metabolize it properly is how we overcome our doubts and push on towards our dreams and goals.

Brené Brown says it best:

“While vulnerability is the birthplace of many of the fulfilling experiences we long for — love, belonging, joy, creativity, and trust, to name a few — the process of regaining our emotional footing in the midst of struggle is where our courage is tested and our values are forged. Rising strong after a fall is how we cultivate wholeheartedness in our lives; it’s the process that teaches us the most about who we are.“