dear friends,
There’s something hopeful about spring, isn’t there? Even in these times of uncertainty, suffering, and conflict, those first blossoms of the season can’t help but lighten the heart, at least a little. I think all that energy of tulip bulbs pushing up through the soil and tiny lime-green leaves unfurling is contagious. It’s not that spring is the only season when we feel the urge to create/improve/do, but it certainly is one of them.
Having said that, for those of us who know something of the toxic self-help world, the very idea of self improvement can feel like something to be avoided. I really understand that. The you-are-flawed-and-can-only-become-perfect-if-you-do-x paradigm is wrong, but the current trend of whatever-you-think-say-or-do-is-perfect-because-you-are-perfect isn’t much better. It doesn’t take a lot of deep thought to see problems with both of these approaches.
So, what to do when the urge to engage in a little personal growth strikes?
I think gentleness can help (she says, surprising no one). With a little inspiration from our botanical friends (more on that below), I’m making a few gentle shifts to guide my current personal goal efforts.
What I love about watching plants wake up after winter is how clearly they show us what healthy growth looks like. It’s as ridiculous to criticize a crocus bulb for not yet having sprouted in the spring as it is to shame an oak tree for dropping its leaves in the fall. It’s equally absurd to think that a seed shouldn’t germinate because it’s already perfect. Life is constant growth and change. The more deeply we embody this truth, the more ease we’ll find in the day-to-day aspects of living, including our own efforts to grow.
Here’s how I’m translating that concept into practice:
(1) Embrace where you are. There’s no shame in being a seed or a fallen leaf, but it’s not very skillful to think you’re one when you’re the other. If you’re at the beginning, embrace the joys of newness in your project. If you’re in the middle, enjoy the progress you’ve made so far and the discoveries you’ve yet to make. And if you’re almost done, celebrate how far you’ve come. Each season has its challenges and gifts. Don’t let yourself get pulled into thinking things should somehow be different than they are. This all sounds very easy, but it isn’t for me.
One of my current goals is to finish a book proposal for a new novel. My old approach would start with a session of berating myself for not already being finished, then I’d shift into extreme striving and set an ambitious schedule that would leave me drained and rather cranky. I would finish the project on time, but at the expense of turning the thing I want to do into something I dread doing. Now, every time that voice pipes up to point out that I “should” be further along, I respond gently, “This is where you are.” The nice thing about that phrase is that there is no judgment in tone and it is impossible to argue with.
(2) Set the high bar and the low bar. This gentle rule has transformed how I approach everything from exercise to home projects to writing goals. The reason it works so well, I think, is that it makes space for our inner striver who wants to reach for the highest bar and at the same time accommodates the reality that there will be storms, droughts, extreme heat or cold that may make that high bar impossible. A little guidance from the natural world, again, shows us that slowing down and doing less is often the most skillful response to a challenge. Plants who can slow their growth or become dormant during periods of extreme heat or drought survive, while plants that don’t share this capacity do not. We all need some variability in how we effort.
While for plants, slowing down or going dormant can make the difference between surviving and not, for humans the ability to vary our effort depending on the conditions can preserve our enthusiasm for the goal. I’ve found that by being as upfront about the low bar as the high bar, I keep momentum going. I first played with this bandwidth concept in my yoga practice: currently, my low bar is 20 minutes 3 days a week and my high bar is an hour six days a week. There are stretches when it’s easy to exceed my high bar and other times when it’s a struggle to make it three times for 20 minutes. Either way, by intentionally setting a goal with some wiggle room, I feel the momentum of moving toward my goal even during periods of doing less.
(3) Get on with it. But you knew that already, didn’t you?
Okay, that’s it for now — you have places to go and things to do and I have a book proposal to work on!
warmly,
alison
