Getting back on track and the repetition of learning

Photo by JK Sloan on Unsplash

I woke up late today thanks to another late night/early morning sleep interlude that kept me up from about 4:30 am-5:30 or 6:00 am. Now it’s nearly noon and I’m just about to have my first cup of coffee. I hope it doesn’t fuck with my sleep tonight too much, but it feels strange to imagine skipping it. I guess that’s what an addiction is, at least this is a somewhat benign one. 

I woke up this morning and while reading emails still in bed started thinking about how maybe I need to hire a coach to help me take more risks. This thought came from reading one of Jane Carter’s, a therapist-coach’s, emails where she talked about giving some clients the assignment to play more and others to push past their fears. I think I need someone to help me push past my fears and then maybe I can work on the play part.

Yesterday was a nearly wholly unproductive Friday as I had nothing on my calendar to “officially” do other than meet with one of my business besties in the afternoon to complete one chapter of our business book club. I was originally supposed to have an in-person coffee date with a new colleague in the morning but it got rescheduled somewhat last minute. Maybe I just didn’t give myself or have enough time to rethink how I wanted to spend the day in order to feel fruitful now that I had so much free time. Sometimes in the absence of plans, it’s hard to find a focus.

So, what did I do all day? Not really anything. I honestly couldn’t tell you, other than the last few tasks I did at the end of the day after our book club—meet with someone I could possibly hire for a VA job (that didn’t go well) and then finally catch up with all my P & L spreadsheets from last October and other small administrative and marketing related tasks. All of which felt depressing and brought down my already down mood even more.

But why was I already down? I think because the day had no focus. I had no clear goals or projects that I wanted to work towards or on. The day, as a whole, felt purposeless… hence why I need someone to push me through my fears. 

Here's the thing. I want to write, but I’m not writing. I haven’t done a new substack post in I don’t know how many weeks, I’m terribly behind. And I don’t even know why I stopped. Was it because I couldn’t get focused? Because I don’t have enough of a grasp of what I want to write about? Because I’m simply scared to write more about outing myself and my life to others? Probably all of the above. But how will I ever figure it out if I don’t just do it, and let it be all over the place and messy? 

Last weekend I met with a new friend to write, and I started something I’ve written before. Something about how I came to work at and leave the prison. I don’t know if it’s meant to be a chapter for a book, or an essay, or a short story. I think I need to write the book. But I also think the book is becoming slightly different than what I originally thought. And I know I can and probably will let perfectionism start to ruin my attempts at that again. Getting caught up thinking I need to learn more craft, or watch more webinars, or get a more structured outline before I start writing anything.

I will always find ways to talk myself out of doing the things I say I want most because it’s scary to imagine getting them I guess. Or maybe it’s just scary to imagine putting so much focus on what I want—which is in direct competition with what my whole life has been about: focusing on what other people want.

Why is it so hard to just choose me? Why is that so scary? 

Here’s where my psychologist brain kicks in in response to that question and can talk about the attachment traumas from childhood and having two parents who unconsciously forced their children to choose them and their needs over themselves, over and over again. The deep fear and terror still locked in the crevices in my body that say to choose myself instead of others means being rejected and punished and therefore the equivalent of death, so of course don’t choose that option. 

But I also know that the best way to get to the other side of the fear is to simply go through it. Showing myself I can survive it, one post or book chapter written at a time. The only way to show my system, and that scared inner child, that it’s safe to choose me is through repetition. 

Who cares if I’ve gotten off track for a while? The exercise is to get back on and keep going.

Yes, I’m still trying to figure out what I want to write about and share with the world. Yes, it will be a lot of what feels like repeatedly going in circles around the same themes and ideas. That’s how we as humans make sense of life and master something. We repeat. We do the same tasks and actions and play over and over again in an attempt to understand things and make sense of them, so we can then integrate them into our bank of knowledge and move on to the next task, the next thing to learn and make sense of. 

This possibly won’t be interesting to many (or any) people to read, my circular journey of repeating myself and repeating themes and tasks as I make sense and attempt to move forward. But then again, maybe it will. Maybe someone out there also going through their own journey of repetitive learning or integrating something will read this and see something familiar. Something known to them. Something that says “Hey, I guess I’m not the only one.” And isn’t that all we can ever hope for in writing or sharing ourselves with others? To feel just a little bit seen or understood.

I guess if even one person reads this and feels that then this will be a success. And if no one reads this or no one reading it feels seen or understood then it’s still a success; because it’s also not about doing it for others, it’s about doing it for me. 

Xx,

Heather

P.S. If you enjoyed this post, please like, comment, or share it with others; it’s the best way for more people to discover This is Not Presentable. And, helps me feel less like I’m writing alone into the void.