I feel like I did a lot of releasing in 2020. Anyone else?

Something about the forced isolation this year really pushed all of us to get up close and personal with the demons and skeletons we’d kept neatly tucking away. For some of us, we’ve probably not opened that closet in so long we genuinely forgot there was anything in there.

There we were, blissfully whistling along, feeling so settled and centered and at peace. Like pshhh personal growth who?? Nah, I’m done with that. I’ve done all my growing. And then bam! 2020 hits and all of a sudden it’s like all these things we’d thought were totally figured out are unraveling before our eyes.

The things that used to be okay no longer are.

It’s harder to ignore the messages your heart is sending about something feeling really wrong (or really right).

It’s just you, in your head, in your home. Sitting with what comes up. Again and again and again.

 

I wrote a post not too long ago about some realizations I’ve been coming to as this year went on, particularly when it comes to my goals for this space. And reading back through that post, I realize that while I was certainly on the path to learning that lesson back then, it really needed to sink in over the past few months.

You know those lessons that relentlessly beat you over the head until you finally GET IT? That’s how this was for me.

I think I *wanted* to start living my life according to those new beliefs and ideas I outlined in that post, but I wasn’t quite ready. I’m not even sure I’m fully ready now, but the difference is I can no longer ignore the discomfort that comes up when I continually go against this lesson.

Looking back at this year, I feel as though I was constantly in search of something. The suddenness of the pandemic, that brought many things in my life to a screeching half with minimal closure, left me feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under me. All this time, I feel like I’ve just been trying to find my footing.

In the past, when I would find myself in a similar state of feeling like everything was falling apart around me, I turned to rigid rules and control to give myself a false sense of stability. I know that had the events of this year happened a few years ago, I would have likely fallen back into old patterns of food control, over-exercise, and overworking. Thankfully, I left those patterns behind me when I realized that they were doing nothing but harming my quality of life and robbing me of my light.

And yet, some offshoots from those patterns have certainly stayed with me. When I feel groundless, my first instinct is still to “work” my way out of the groundlessness. I still struggle with being still and totally present when everything is unraveling. I fear the emptiness, the darkness, so much sometimes that I resolve to fill it up in every possible way, searching for a sense of control that is always just out of reach. I put my trust into external sources and start searching outside myself for answers on how to be and what to do.

 

Writing on the Blog

I wrote here about how for a long time, I put a substantial amount of pressure on myself to do this blog “the right way.” I thought there were xyz to-do’s I needed to get done before I could be a “successful blogger.” And as a recovering perfectionist, I can tell you that I felt that if I was going to spend time blogging, it was nonnegotiable that I set my sights on becoming “successful.” Never mind that I never thought too closely of what this success would look like. I just saw other bloggers whom I’d been following for a while, who are obviously highly successful, and I thought that’s what I wanted for myself.

So I played the game. I studied the “rulebook of successful blogging,” reading countless articles on SEO, digital marketing, Instagram growth, and Pinterest. It was mildly fun at first, because I truly love learning new things and acquiring new skills, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was significantly less into these aspects of blogging than I was into writing. And yet, I put them on such a pedestal, convincing myself that it didn’t matter how good of a writer I was if I didn’t first figure all these things out. I thought I needed to check off all the boxes that I’d seen all my favorite bloggers check off, but I never stopped to question why I was actually doing it.

Like I wrote here, 2020 is when I really began to question all these patterns and beliefs. I realized that I have a choice– keep going on this road that felt more and more draining, or begin to dig deeper. I finally began to ask myself if I even wanted that ultimate goal of being a full-time blogger as my one job, and the answer was a surprisingly resounding no. I adore writing, but I don’t necessarily love all the other aspects that come with turning a blog into a full-time income. I don’t love the total solitude of it, or the amount of time you spend in front of a screen, or the instability of it. I think it would be really cool to earn money from here, but it certainly isn’t the ultimate goal, and I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on this space that was only ever created to be a comfortable place to play with my creativity and connect with like-minded people.

Still, I felt I wanted more. I love writing for its fun, creative aspects, but what I love possibly even more is connecting with others – writing is just one of my favorite modes of doing that. It means the absolute world to me when you guys reach out and tell me that something I wrote really resonated with you or made you think about something differently or just helped you feel less alone. That’s why I do it.

To me, it felt like I’d hit some kind of ceiling with this space, where any growth I desired necessarily came with a whole bunch of strings I wasn’t ready to tie myself to. I figured if there was no way to grow this blog without doing all those things, then perhaps it was time to try some new things.

 

Writing in Other Places

I thought that if I really had taken my blog as far as it could go, then it was time to try some new avenues. I knew there was a whole world out there of freelance writing and all kinds of magazines that I could pitch to. So I dove headfirst into learning all I could about pitching and about the specific guidelines of various publications, and I allowed myself to write about topics I’d never felt comfortable writing about on this blog.  I was published on Thought Catalog, on multiple Medium publications, and even on Advice from a 20 Something. It was honestly a blast, and I genuinely believe many of the articles I wrote needed those external homes.

And yet.

Very quickly, I noticed some familiar patterns starting to show up. Which reminds me of the age-old saying, “Wherever you go, there you are.”

When I began posting on Medium and digging more deeply into all the ins and outs of Medium publications (it’s a whole WORLD), I noticed that same fanaticism and frantic energy that had cropped up in the past when I would get too caught up in the “shoulds” of blogging.

I found dozens of articles about finding success on Medium, about how to grow your audience, how to earn a full-time income on Medium. The articles said you must write and publish on Medium every day, write for at least 3 hours each day, make writing your top priority. So once more, I started playing the game. I soaked up all the instruction manuals like a sponge, and then I began to churn out post after post tailored specifically for publications.

At first, it was exciting. I loved the thrill of getting accepted into a publication and having a totally new audience interact with my writing. I liked the challenge of writing with a new reader in mind than the one I was used to. I liked that this kept me super busy, day in and day out, and gave me something to focus on and pour my time and energy into.

And then, I felt that telltale feeling of discontent and resistance.

It took a while for it to click. I felt genuinely lost at first about why these same patterns were emerging and I was once again reaching burnout. I also couldn’t figure out why I seemed to have a visceral negative reaction in my body whenever I would spend too long reading those Medium success articles, just as I did with the blogging success articles. Was something wrong with me? Did I just have terrible follow-through? Was I just over writing?

No, that didn’t feel right. I noticed that there were some days when I would wake up fired up and excited to write, and the post would flow out of me effortlessly. Then there were other days when the discipline and motivation were there — I wanted to write something good — but I felt somehow stifled and suffocated.

I began to notice certain patterns in my body, how everything seemed to contract and tighten when I put all this pressure and expectation on my writing. And how it felt expansive and freeing, like a safe and cozy place to land amidst general confusion and chaos, when I was doing it because I truly wanted to.

I realized that while I liked the structure of writing every day, I hated the pressure of *needing* to publish daily. I also didn’t like that I didn’t own any of my writing when I posted on Medium and that it became the property of whatever publication I was giving it to. And while I do love writing, I didn’t like how putting so much pressure on it caused it to feel like a chore, which in turn made the quality suffer quite a bit.

Most importantly, I realized I missed home. Because nothing has ever felt as comforting, as sweet, as cozy, as familiar as this little corner of the Internet that is entirely and only mine. More specifically, I missed how blogging used to feel when I’d first started. When it was all fun and joy and I hadn’t yet told myself I had to accomplish xyz things with it or do it in any particular way. I just did my own thing, stumbling and tripping along, and learning as I went. Of course, I felt less pressure then because I felt less people were watching, but if I’m being honest, 99.9% of the pressure that slowly began to build and build over the years was self-imposed.

I began to realize this in this post, when I wrote about how I was the one who had created all these rules for the “right” way to write, and so I was also the one who could dismantle them. I just hadn’t realized just how deeply these patterns were lodged in me and how challenging the unraveling and unlearning work would be.

 

Job Search

Another major place I have been working on releasing this pattern of “shoulds” this year is with my job search.

I am currently not employed full-time, and this is definitely something that has been on the forefront of my mind since graduation. To say it wasn’t part of the plan is downright laughable, considering none of 2020 really was. But it was one of the most stressful parts of this year for me and one that made me feel most inadequate and unworthy. My tendency to start doing doing doing when I feel a lack of control caused me to spend hours submitting job apps for positions I didn’t even really want. Just as with the writing, I was doing what I thought I was “supposed to” because it gave me a (false) sense of grounding that I so longed for. It made me feel that I was taking control of my life and putting things in order and GOING somewhere. In reality, I was like a hamster on a wheel, never stopping, always in place.

Just as with the writing, I began to notice certain patterns in my body that gave me clues that I was veering off my path. I noticed the constriction and tightening, the shallow breaths, when I would start working on an application for a job I had opened because it looked “practical” and “made sense with my major.” I still pushed through and sent the application, but it’s no wonder none of those ever panned out. It was probably spelled out on every line of my cover letter that I did NOT want to work there. And though I knew that full well deep inside, it took a while for it to really start to click.

On the other hand, I noticed how there were times when I would happen across a job totally by accident that genuinely flooded me with excitement, where the process of writing the cover letter and working on the application, felt downright fun. Where I didn’t mind that it took hours or that I didn’t have any guarantee that this time would be worth it — I just knew I wanted to do it. Then, just as with those writing posts that came straight from my heart, I felt energized and excited. My breath was longer and fuller, and the work did not feel like work.

 

I know, I KNOW, that this second way is the way it should be. The way all of it is meant to be. The writing, the job apps, the relationships, everything. Everything magical that has ever happened in my life happened not from forcing or shoulding but from letting go, trusting, and flowing. And the journey was never perfect, but it was precisely in that imperfection that the magic lay.

It’s hard, but I’m trying this radical new thing where instead of launching into each day with a pre-set to-do list of VITs (very important tasks), I try flowing through my day and asking myself what actually feels good to do. I find that by doing so, I end up getting all the VIT’s done anyway, but I also have much more fun because I incorporate little elements of joy in there with them, which makes the VIT’s flow much more smoothly anyway. Often, when I’m in the middle of a guitar jam session, for example, I will suddenly get an idea to look up a certain job posting, and then I have a fresh wind to work on it. And if I don’t get them done, nothing bad happens. By being a little more discerning with what I actually spend time and energy on, I find I have extra energy left over to start new projects or devote to new ideas that I wouldn’t have given the time of day to if I was consumed with just getting through the “shoulds.”

I also have noticed that I have significantly more clarity this way. When I am not constantly juggling multiple tasks and filling every free moment, there is time and space for inspiration to rear its head. There, in those gaps, I meet myself where I’m at, and I am able to see things for what they are. I recognize when I am itching to do things because I feel uncomfortable and ungrounded versus when I genuinely feel fired up about it. I notice the subtle differences in body sensation and mind state when I follow flow versus should.

I don’t always get it right. I find myself sometimes gravitating toward my phone and opening Instagram for the 8th time in an hour because I don’t know what to do with myself. I know that if I were to just sit with it, to breathe into it, something would float up, and that temporary feeling of discomfort would release.

I know that instead of grabbing my phone, it would be infinitely better to close my eyes and do a quick meditation, or start singing a song, or crack open a book, or even just stare out the window. All those things feel so much better in my body and soul, and I know this is how we are meant to be. We are not meant to be slogging our way through life, working tirelessly for things we don’t even really want. At least, I know that isn’t how I want to live my life. But I’m trying to release the pressure to do this “the right way” too. It’s okay if I stumble and fall; it’s okay if I’m not good at this yet.

At least I’m trying.

I want to let go and see where the music takes me. I want to embrace the situational groundlessness of right now and instead find my footing in a place that is much more sure and much more stable than anything outside of me could ever be.

I realize now that the only thing I ever needed was trust. Trust in my own knowing; trust that even if I don’t “follow the rules,” my writing will reach the audience it needs to reach. Trust that the time I spend honing my craft and truly enjoying the creativity is not spent in vain. Trust that the right job for me will find me, just as so many right opportunities did in the past, without my needing to force anything. Trust that I do not need to bring everything I do to perfection for it to be worth doing.

Trust that I can do things MY way – the way that feels right for me — instead of the “right” way or the “tried and true way,” and things will be okay. In fact, they’ll likely be way more awesome than they would be following the well-footed path.

I guess what I’m saying is I’m rebelling. I’m making like Taylor Swift and shaking off all the rules, all the stories, all the shoulds that I thought I needed to live my best life but that were really keeping me in a cage.

All that energy I’ve spent on trying out paths that weren’t mine, on trying to emulate someone else’s success story, on trying to do things “the right way”  was not spent in vain. It made me feel tired and lost and frustrated, and it made me miss home. Had I not gone on the journey, I wouldn’t have known that everything I’ve been searching for has been right here all along.

I’m glad I learned this lesson now, before I have crafted a whole life around following “the right path” and doing what I “should.”

I’m leaving all that behind in 2020. I don’t know if I’m fully done learning this lesson, or if it will reappear in new forms in the future. But I do know that never before have I found this much comfort, solace, and safety inside myself.

So here’s to home. It’s where the heart is, after all.