Over the years, my life has taken a lot of crazy twists and turns. Lots of fun and not so fun ups and downs. That includes some really hard times, which were usually my own fault. Between having a bad attitude, impulse control issues and just plain bad decision making I made a mess of my life a couple times. Despite my self-destructive tendencies, I bounced back pretty quickly. Then one day, after years of random life detours, I actually felt confident I was in a good place and on the right path. It almost felt like things were going according to a plan. Then life threw a wrench at my face, or as the saying goes in my plans. Forced to move out of New York City, all the progress and momentum I’d built up came to a screeching halt.
Moving on
I realized from the start that this was a big life change that I’d need time to recover from. I was moving away from the only city I’d ever called home, leaving behind friends and family. All of my plans would have to change. I’d need a new job. My writing would likely suffer and most of my creative projects would get pushed to the backburner. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but I could handle it. I was nowhere near prepared for the reality of how hard it would be.
I might have managed a month or two of being easy on myself. Mostly, I jumped straight into the job search. Less than a year after moving, I landed a part-time job in the local public library, then a full-time position six months later. Looking back, it doesn’t seem like I slowed down at all. I posted at least once a month to my blog, started a newsletter, opened an Etsy shop, tried teaching myself to sew and worked on a handful of different writing projects. I always felt frustrated though, like I wasn’t moving forward or ever doing enough.
Instead of taking the time I needed, I pushed myself harder because I wasn’t meeting impossibly high standards. I jumped from one project to another because I couldn’t focus or progress didn’t happen quick enough for my satisfaction. I berated myself for not finishing anything I started while also telling myself to take the time to explore a range of creative work.
Everything is Relative
Time and our perception of it passing can be very wonky. While the first couple of years seemed to flyby, they also seemed to drag on forever. What frustrated me most about that period was imagining how much time I was wasting. I thought everyday I wasn’t exactly on track would take me further away from my goals. Every day, week, month, and year seemed twice as long because it was time I’d have to make up.
Looking back it’s a lot easier to see and appreciate my accomplishments. At the time, I felt stuck and like my creative life was permanently on pause. But I wasn’t quite as stalled as I thought. Yeah, so I started a lot and didn’t finish much. But I was consistently writing, maybe not everyday but most days. Even though it wasn’t creative work or anything I intended on publishing, it still counts. Writing was happening, I was doing the work I needed to be doing at that moment.
Lesson Learned
I don’t have many regrets in my life. Don’t get me wrong I’ve made tons of mistakes and shitty choices. But somehow that got me to this point where I’m fairly happy with my life. But there is one thing I would change if I could go back and do it all over again. Instead of focusing almost solely on the final product, I’d give equal if not more attention to the process. I started writing because it was fun and I enjoyed expanding into other creative work. But I forgot that when I started assigning value to my work and tying it to ideas of success.
The past couple of years, I’ve been working on allowing myself to slow down and enjoy the process. I may still have taken just as much time to get back on track, but it could have been a much happier time.