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Take some time out for yourself. You deserve it.
New Zealand or England. Where will you go first?
Take some time out for yourself. You deserve it.
New Zealand or England. Where will you go first?
In the old Star Trek of my childhood, Captain Kirk always had a plan. If he couldn’t think of anything helpful to say to the strange alien race – with their heads of molded polystyrene – he left it to Spock to think of something. Spock always thought of something. There was always a plan on Day-10.
For me, the impossible is the thing which distracts me, derails me and makes my Day-10 enthusiasm dry up like an autumn leaf.
A sustainable run of 10 hour days becomes the impossible when you’re tired, real life is crowding in and your accounts are still sitting in the middle of your office carpet. At this point I’ve vacuumed around mine for three weeks in a row. You’re still a relationship partner, a parent, a child belonging to someone and you need to eat and sleep sometime. Impossible is the goal you set yourself and then beat yourself up for not achieving.
A zillion years ago whilst studying counselling, there was an expectation that I would eventually be let loose on the unsuspecting British public. I possessed no such grandiose designs. I wanted to sort my own head out and for the most part, did exactly that.
One of the things I learned involved the power of impossible goals.
We set ourselves these ridiculous levels because the world tells us that it’s better to reach for the moon and maybe snatch a few stars in the process. It’s ridiculous on many levels, not least because the moon is much nearer to earth than most of the attractive, grab-worthy stars. But foolish because aiming high has become a social mantra, even if the goals are unattainable.
I know so many people collapsing beneath the weight of ridiculous and impossible goals. Eventually they give up, admit defeat and label themselves failures. They sink into depression and stay there, while their impossible goal slaps them around the back of the head daily.
Impossible goals lead to unhealthy emotions such as guilt and fear. They can be crippling. On Day-10, I find myself crippled.
I told my science teacher once that I’d set my goal on becoming a radiologist. After the initial shock, he laughed up a tonsil.
“You need mathematics, science…and you only come to class to eat your sandwiches.”
You can imagine my hurt and indignation as I shoved my geeky glasses up my nose and twirled my dark curls. His classroom still contained the desks with lids and you could eat your lunch behind the flap whilst pretending to get your books out. I swear he thought the whole class had wooden faces. I thought I’d managed to scarf my entire lunch for the last four years without him noticing. #massivefail
“I’ll get better,” I declared. I flounced as far as the door before he fired his parting shot.
“Drop your extra English class and come to my tutorials. Then we’ll see.”
I would rather dig out my own eyeballs with a spoon than relinquish my favourite subject of the week. I could have done it, but I didn’t. The idea of losing all my happy minutes in favour of a science based goal filled me with horror. I was an English major. Tolkien greeted me as I emerged from the womb and Virginia Wolf slapped my newborn backside. English major through and through. I didn’t strive for the impossible goal. I dropped it like a hot potato.
It would have made me miserable.
I’ve lived my life like the proverbial pantser, lurching from one crisis to the next without respite. Many times I needed Mr Spock but where was he? Children popping out left and right, job moves, house moves, money draining out like a sacrificial blood letting and absolutely no plan.
I didn’t just choose not to make impossible goals, I didn’t make any goals at all. ‘Keep the children alive for another year,’ doesn’t count as your New Year’s resolution. ‘Survive until payday,’ felt like an impossible goal, but it didn’t extend beyond that day of the month before resetting and starting again.
I abdicated from making goals because they introduced too much guilt when I couldn’t manage to achieve them.
Day-10 finds me resetting my goals.
I can’t blog every day, it’s not realistic. And nobody can pull off 10k words every single morning before lunchtime. I’ll probably never achieve celebrity status or pop up on the Ellen Show like I once kidded myself I would. I thought it might be cool to have people get up and dance when I walked on stage. Usually they’re trying to tell me my skirt is caught in my underwear. I’ll tick that off the list. I should perhaps stop writing about my poor husband (especially the bedroom scenes.) Please…nobody tell him…
“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” Arthur Conan Doyle said it so it must be true. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with him.
I’m a writer. I’m great at being a pantser. Oh my goodness, am I ever? This morning I banged out over 2k words on 2 different books in a little over 2 hours. Yes, I’m writing two novels at once. That’s skill.
Okay, so I got straight off the treadmill and wrote in my office in my sweaty bra and knickers, but the curtains were closed and nobody saw. What does it really matter in the grand scheme of things?
I edited a whole chapter of an older novel in a cafe in town while Husband went to the gym. Cue applause.
Then I basically fluffed around for the afternoon looking for the Aspirin because I have one of those hot pains behind my left knee. I’m meant to drive to the local fruit stall where we sell our garden produce but in taking off my jeans to examine my knee, I kinda took off some other things too. I’m in my dressing gown now and Husband will probably need to go to the fruit stall alone. Ngaruawahia is great at being non-judgy, but people will still notice.
Not just Day-10 but every day. Whoever you are and whatever you’re doing, go easy on yourself. Your best IS good enough and if anyone says different, tell them I’m coming for them. I have a browser full of neat ways to kill people without getting caught. Maybe I shouldn’t say that. I’m sure our IP address is already on someone’s watch list. I did wonder about using the free Internet at the library to do my dodgiest searching, but figure some poor government official somewhere has a good laugh at my expense most days. It would be a terrible shame to disappoint.
Go hard and go well. Life is short. Make yours count. Smile more.
I remember pushing a pram with three children under four clinging to the handle. One had just fallen over and the other two were crying just because they felt like it. A woman at the school gate told me she admired me. She said I was always smiling. I thought she was a liar.
Smile more, especially at your children. And your spouse. Try to take the grimace out of it, although I know it’s not always easy. There doesn’t have to be a plan. Survival is a commendable enough goal. Hopefully it’s realistic.
Do something daft at least once a day. And if you don’t use your ‘daftie slot’ let me know. I’ll make good use of it for you…
#fulltimeauthor
These are the musings of a slightly insane woman who spends way too much time alone.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
If you’re interested in what she actually produces, take a look at her BOOKS page and make sure you pick up the freebies.
