It is 7:05 in the morning (not early for some, early these days, for me), and I am sitting down to write. For days, I have been telling myself that I would wake up early to have an hour of time to myself before the toddler woke up. Today is the first day I’m actually doing it. I am tired, doubtful, but also excited. Tired because sleep has been evading me lately, and my body isn’t used to this creative wake-up call. Doubtful because I don’t know what project to pick up during this precious, peaceful time. My mind tells me to journal, to try to dig deep into all the things I’ve been feeling and thinking lately. Then it tells me to read my Bible, because so many voices say that’s the only way to draw close to God (it’s not). Then my mind says to work on that novel that is almost complete—the first, dirty draft, at least. Then I think I should probably meditate, because aren’t we all supposed to be meditating?
The truth is, all of those things bring me some brand of joy and centeredness, but this morning, all I wanted to do was write a blog post. The soft click of keys satisfies.
I am thinking this morning about ways to get unstuck. I feel that personally, I have been in a somewhat “stuck” season for the better part of the last four years. Certainly there were seasons of clarity and forward movement, but at the risk of sounding melodramatic, the words I might use to describe the way I feel inside—not necessarily to describe what was happening outside—is one step forward, two steps back (cue the Springsteen song). When we are in a season like this, a season where we are successfully doing the stuff of daily life, but inside we may feel stagnant, what do we do to move forward? What do we do to, in a way, pull ourselves out of the eddy by our own bootstraps? I’m still figuring it out and experimenting, but here are a few things I’m going to try:
Change one small part of your daily routine. For me, right now, this means waking up earlier instead of waiting for the toddler to wander in and force me out of bed. This actually feels like a pretty big change, but all it really requires is setting the alarm and actually heeding it. I haven’t read this book, so forgive me if I’m butchering this concept, but apparently one of the big premises of the habits book Atomic Habits, by James Clear, is that by changing one thing, we can create a ripple affect for many things to shift. Maybe you’ll get up earlier, like me, or simply switch the order of your morning: Wash your face before you get a cup of coffee—though I personally wouldn’t recommend that one. Eat a different breakfast. Drive a different way to work. Listen to a different radio station. Listen only to silence. If we look for them, I think there are a thousand tiny ways we can add a small, crooked detour to our familiar grooves, and maybe that detour will wake our brains up, if even just a little.
Learn something new. For me, this is going to look like reading and listening more mindfully. I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t been reading very much lately. My nightstand is stacked with books that, at one time, I was so excited to read. I consider it a symptom of my ‘stuckness’ that I haven’t been gravitating towards reading. (Familiar is comforting, after all, and even though being stuck might not feel good, it can feel familiar—dangerous ground.) Granted, I don’t have a ton of time these days to sit down and read quietly, but I do have some time, and I definitely have pockets of time when I can listen to an audiobook while brushing my teeth or emptying the dishwasher. I can turn off the comfort podcast that I’ve listened to ten times already, and instead listen to a book. At night, before sleep, I can read two pages. If you’re already tearing your way through the library stacks, or if reading isn’t really your thing, maybe this ‘learn something new’ deal could look like taking an online course, or watching YouTube tutorials about knitting, or chess, or making fudge. Actually, those all sound like fun to me, too.
Write a list and set a timer. This last one isn’t sexy, but I do think it can be powerful. Often, when I’m feeling stuck, it’s because I’m actually avoiding doing things I know I need—or deeply want—to do. Now here’s the thing I’ve learned: The list cannot be long. In fact, it should really only be about three items long. Two would be better. Any longer, and I begin to fall inward with the weight of all there is to do and how little time there is to do it. What to put on the list? Well, I suppose it could be the task you’re putting off (write the check, make the appointment, mop the floor), but it can also be something that simply sounds enjoyable: Paint your nails. Listen to the new album straight through while building a giant block tower with the toddler. Watch the video about making fudge. Listen to the audiobook for 20 minutes. The timer piece? This is simply a technique I’ve found helpful when I just. can’t. get. moving. Things often don’t take nearly as long as we think they will. If you set a timer for 20 minutes and start doing the thing you know you need/want to do, chances are you’ll be done before the timer is up, you’ll be on a roll and keep going, or you’ll have at least created some forward momentum.
It’s now 7:53, and my quiet morning time is almost up. I’m curious to see how this slight change in routine will impact my mood for the rest of the day. I hope if you’re feeling stuck and you’re reading this, these ideas might help. And I hope you and I will both soon feel unstuck. And I hope we’ll also know, deep down, that living the stuff of daily life is important and heroic always. No matter what season we’re in.
Thanks for reading.
Beth