I’m a good robot. I’m really good at doing things I “have” to do but not very good at taking care of me nor investing in my mental and physical health. I’ve been trained to be motivated to “go to job” and “clean house” and “be a good hostess” and “make other people feel comfortable” (even when I feel uncomfortable). I’m really good at these things. And, I’m really not good at motivating myself to do things that will make me happy or to investigate and spend time pondering what will “make me happy.” It’s just easier and less invasive to do things for others or to work that job to pay the bills and pay for happy hour drinks so I don’t actually have to think about me and what will make me happy.
And then I feel like a failure every time my partner sincerely asks me “what do you want?,” in an effort to push me towards my utmost potential, and I’ve been asked the question so many times I already feel defeated. I dejectedly say, “I don’t know.” But I do know! And I’ve already told him a hundred times, but here I am still not doing anything I say. “I want to write and sing and make the world a better place!” Why does he keep asking me? Why don’t I take action? And the world turns…
Well, I heard recently that to become a master at something, one must put 10,000 of work toward that one thing. Now, here is something I can work with. Under that logic, I’m a master at two things so far: fundraising (my day job which I’ve been doing for almost 7 years, which equals about 14,000 hours) and I earned a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature (before I fell into my current career of non-profit fundraising). So, I’m not a total failure! But, that’s really not the point, and no one is keeping score anyway (or are they?).
Back to me. I want to write, sing and sew. Yes, I really do want to sew! It’s part of this craving I have to create and produce. I started crocheting a couple years ago and it was thrilling. Seriously! Thrilling to create useful items like really warm hats, scarves and blankets to give as gifts and to use on myself during our lovely, gray, Seattle days.
But I really want to write. And I realize I NEED to. Why is something so good for me, so hard for me to actualize? Its so easy for me to get stuck. To distract myself. To start pleasing others or just doing “tasks” that need to get done instead of working on my heart and soul. I need to push through. I need to make myself write every day. I just need to. What’s it going to take? Every time I write, I feel better, but most days I just want to push the urge to write away like a pesky fly. As if I’m waging a battle against myself, resisting my true self at every turn. What am I so afraid of? Rejection, probably. And yet, I work in a field filled with constant rejection — nonprofit fundraising! People say no to me almost daily, and sometimes two or three times a day. Is this a cruel trick? Is fate testing me, trying to toughen me up? I know I have powerful words inside me. I know I can make a difference through my pen. Why must i fight myself so? “I should be happy to share my gifts with the world,” a friend of mine tells me.
Resist the robot. How do you resist?