Two little comp books have been sitting by my nightstand for months now. I bought them last summer - inspired by a really cool friend of mine who dutifully writes updates/reports/notes of love in comp books for her kiddos.
I thought, yes please, I also want to be a cool person/mom who writes down the little comings and goings of her days with her kiddos.
This was idealistic and naive and came from a part of me that apparently doesn’t know me at all.
As confessed they have sat on the nightstand for months. In an attempt to make them visible, I moved them upstairs and put them on my desk. But they sat there for weeks. Because of course,e I had unconsciously put them beneath all of Austin Kleon’s books I have been devouring whenever I need a reminder that process and practice are the point.
Part of it is my attention…or the lack of it. Part of it is a deep and strong procrastination bone. And lastly, the honest truth is I have a pretty piss poor memory.
Long and short term. I sometimes stand in the kitchen and think Why am I here? No really why am I standing here? it’s rough - my therapist said I’m most likely still working off my sleep debt from my first kid…who is now ten years old. We didn’t sleep for longer than twenty-minute increments for almost three years - I kid you not.
Long-term is a challenge as well, I cannot tell you how much my children weighed when they were born or how old they were when they said their first words.
I remember Esme’s first word but not Lorelei’s which is even more depressing because one of the reasons I touted wanting to have a second child was so I could do it better the second time - ya know with everything I had learned from the first.
The problem is that I can’t remember half of what I learned the first time around and it no longer applies because my second child is…a completely different person to which none of my former learning actually applies.
These notebooks felt like my chance to send evidence of my love into the future, a time-traveling experiment. I was overthinking it of course but that’s what I do best.
As usual, I was trying too hard and so the books sat for eight months. I did manage to glue a piece of art, one that each girl had made, onto the covers. But then they sat uncracked mocking me.
As with most bouts of procrastination the pain of not doing the thing, whatever it is, starts to outweigh the pain of doing it. And thank god for that. In the end, I’m never quite sure what I’m avoiding. Maybe saying the wrong thing? The idea of doing something wrong?
I imagined one of my daughters flipping through it years from now, when I’m dead and gone, shaking her head and thinking, Yup, mom always saw me like that and it made me so mad - as she highlighted that one little damning section to take into her next therapy appointment.
Then last night Esme came to me and she was asking me about a feelings wheel. Had I ever heard of one? She was feeling anxious about an assessment at school on Monday but also feeling excited to go to school and she was looking for more words to describe her feelings. That is a pretty awesome thing to look for so we printed one out and took a look.
And here’s the thing, I always thought - I’m sure there was an author or podcast somewhere that put it in my head - that at our core we’re either coming from a place of love or fear. That we move from these two core feelings. And that’s kind of true but smack dab in the middle of this wheel was something far more provocative than fear - at the core was rejection.
Rejection. Getting it wrong and paying the price for it. Whatever we fear that price may be. From there we land in fear, control, abandonment, and sooo many other hairy feelings helplessness, shame, sadness, and even apathy.
I’ve been sitting and turning over this idea of rejection being at the core of where we launch from - either love or rejection. Where it shows up in big and small ways in our daily lives.
So much power to stall is what I keep sitting with. A stalling out place. When it shows up we tend to freeze and not act in ways that we would love to act - more specifically we stop taking action towards the things we love.
I practically had to force myself to sit down and pull the notebooks from under my book stack. I was fighting it while also wanting to just do it already. I slid each one open and I wrote three pages to each of my daughters. I don’t know why it was so hard to begin but once I did it all flowed easy, lovely, and sweet.
And I remembered more than I thought I did….
I remembered pretending I was a T-Rex with Lorelei while she whacked me enthusiastically with a long brown wrapping paper tube - her Apatosaurus tail.
Esme playing the song A Million Dreams on the piano incessantly even though she has been assigned a completely different song to practice. How she got in trouble at her lesson and felt bad about it for a long time afterward, but she was still unable to do anything but play the song she was in love with - A Million Dreams the minute she walks in the house, the minute dinner is over, anytime she passes the piano.
The San Francisco Sourdough bread I served with the beef stew on Saint Patty’s day that was so damn good - everyone’s eyes widened and we started talking at the same time and laughing because we all had the exact same thought - that all of our birthday menus had now changed! It would be San Francisco Sourdough for each and EVERY meal on birthdays from now on! Esme actually moaned, This is the food of the gods.
Leaning into love takes practice. It takes audacity to lean into what we love to do - especially when we’re stuck in ambiguous avoidance.
There are numerous, small, inexplicably difficult to explain, procrastinations that keep us stuck.
Insisting gently on the action we want to take - because it comes from the heart, from love - even though the door we have to walk through has fine print under it that says….possible rejection ahead.
Doing it anyway.
Serra Sewitch Posey from The Racoon hosted a watercolor night on Zoom a few weeks ago - something that felt so life-giving and generous. So filled with grace. It felt like a relief, like an exhale, to have a space held to just show up and chat and let a wet paintbrush move on paper - maybe most importantly to not do it alone. I was shocked at how this small gesture buoyed me through the weeks that followed.
It felt so good that I did it myself and invited my Artist’s Way group to join me for an impromptu drop-in painting session; and that made me consider the cascade, the ripple of loving actions - of invitations - of inclusion.
The accountability and joy that comes when we put ourselves in good company, good conversation, good action, and appreciation. It’s powerful stuff and it generates more of the same.
Whatever the current shortcomings, however, I’m getting it wrong more often than getting it right - I’m working on taking the actions that are coming from love even when I’d rather avoid them. Even when I can’t remember what I wanted to say. Sometimes all you need to say is - I remember when you used to pretend to be a dinosaur - which is the same thing as saying I love you.
What are you procrastinating around this month? Anything pressing against your heart - sitting there asking you to start but you’re putting it on the bottom shelf? I’d love to hear about it.
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Doing It Anyway - Creative Community Hour
You’re invited!
I invite you to join me for an hour of community time - let’s walk through the door of procrastination together!
You can bring whatever you like; a piece to write, paint, knit, sculpt, weave, or doodle.
This is a community hour to just be in good company and accountable to what we love. We will chat for the first fifteen or so and then spend the time doing our thang - whatever that is for you.
Friday night, March 28th from 6:30 pm - 7:30 pm CT. Use this Zoom Link
If you haven’t read Austin Kleon’s Substack I highly recommend it!
I’m sharing below a quote from his recent post Be The Weird You Wish To See. The T-Shirt is amazing and as you all know the Library is a place that makes my life worth living - if you feel the same support the ALA!
Support public libraries! Several people have asked me where to get the “What’s more punk than the public library?” t-shirt I’m wearing in that video. Please buy one from the Mount Pleasant Library Friends site — all the others online are knockoffs.
For my American readers: Our president issued an executive order to dismantle the only federal agency dedicated to funding library services. The ALA has a page of frequently asked questions about the order including a list of what you can do. (Don’t have a library card? Go out and get one today!)
Thank you for sharing the memories of your girls. I loved getting to see you and them in those moments. This essay was a heartburst—thank you, Sarah!
I’m so glad that (I almost wrote “play date” but that’s what it was!) painting session was helpful for you. I want to come to yours! I’ll be about half an hour late though.