I can do hard things.
That’s been my mantra all week, in the emotional moments, the scattershot, crazy overwhelmed headspace moments, or…really all the moments.
Sometimes, life just throws a combo platter at you that seems like too much. In my case, none of the things are big, life-impacting, consequential things. At least, not on the surface. But somehow, they’ve intruded on my consciousness, impacted my productivity. I feel a little stuck.
There’s lots of advice out there for the stuck among us. Read poetry! Write poetry! Organize - take a long walks - nap - coffee - hug a pet - muscle through - incentivize… One of my favorites comes from my friend, Pam, Doodle Your Way Out of Stuckness1
I don’t really consider myself a doodler, but the idea of putting pencil to paper in low pressure rhythm, working things out and creating something fun/beautiful is amazing.
However what works once, rarely works always, so in each season of stuck, I scramble, teeter-tottering between engagement and escape. What’s the way out?
Author Ann Patchett famously remembers early years as a waitress at T.G.I.Friday’s as a time in which she learned to stare at the dish pit wall (and presumably to let her fertile brain do its work). But I have to admit, I fear the blank wall. I want to feel that I am looking for something. Magic, maybe. Or a muse.
And so, when I need to renew the spark, I try looking out a window, in a search for what’s on the literal and figurative horizon. The rain invites sweaters, soup-making; my overgrown garden suggests weeding; the wind and leaves promise…raking, jumping, communing with color? All different kinds of mental or physical stimulation that may lead me somewhere.
I also have windows inside, which offer sight of my dog (napping and cuddling), a bowl of fruit (eating?), things to clean, projects to move along, post-it reminders of pithy wisdom to meditate on or communicate. There’s always something. Plenty of somethings. But aren’t they what’s making it hard in the first place?
With an overwhelm of choice and necessity, and no clear path, it can all add up to too many small drags on my psyche. Not to mention the other other set of windows - of the ubiquitous screen variety. Too many recommendations, calls for action, opinions, options, “can”s, “should”s, and “must”s - the aforementioned hard things.
But we don’t have to look through windows and see only walls that stop us or worlds of chaos. A note on my desk from fellow Substacker and storyteller, Micaela Blei, reminds me to keep on the lookout for three key elements: “Fun, Soul, Rigor”
It isn’t that we need things to be easier - rigor is good; I find it in the writing challenges I set for myself, in the logistic puzzles of family schedules and plans, in the turning over and processing of all that I read and hear.
Emotional, consequential matters don’t necessarily lead to overwhelm - we need soul; And like the rainbows on my path this week, the colorations of reaction and mood vary widely and appropriately, from vivid reds to muted blues and greens.
But what ties it all together and makes room for magic among the hard things is fun.
The point of looking outward and through is the perspective of anticipation. Like Alice Through the Looking Glass, when we accept an invitation in what we see, even the things that make us stuck feel different. There’s potential for adventure, for challenge, even for joy.
In the end, it’s about framing.
What are you seeing through your windows this week? Drop me a message and suggest something to look for!
You can also get Pam’s book from her shop in a digital version, or take an in-person class if you find yourself in Portland this fall.
P.S. You may have noticed this newsletter arriving on a Monday, instead of a Friday. I was STUCK! But actually, I’m jumping into a new rhythm this season. Look for What Magic? on the 2nd and 4th Mondays of each month through the fall.
What an inspiring post! It's true, the stuckness comes and goes, and what works once can't always be counted on. We're enjoying some beautiful early fall weather, which I'm trying to enjoy more, though my MO is typically to become a housework hermit. Maybe I crave the feeling of accomplishment? But I do get good ideas while vacuuming, sometimes...
I saw a tiny parch of blue sky after a week of rain and gray. It’s goody again, but I embraced ten minutes of blue.