I love self-assigned challenges, so much. They help me do things I never thought I would be able to do or to sustain on the long term. My whole daily routine take roots in them. A big part of my creative practice as well.
I was never disciplined, as I mentioned in earlier posts. And yet, this is my third 100 days challenge. And I had many 7 days, 10 days and 30 days challenges that helped building them up. They sustain my passion for the human process, exploring what makes us “us”, what we tweak, completely change, or not change at all (so far, not that much in my experience, at least when we are committed).
One thing I learned through them, my favorite take away is that challenges never work sustainably if we keep them too rigid. Sometimes, life takes over. We need to skip a day. To make it shorter. To improvise and get flexible on the how we do it. Because shit happens. And life takes over. This is one of those days. I had quite a few things planned today, including a day trip.
I was hoping to write 2 more Instagram posts introducing the texts of this challenge. It’s a hard practice, but one I’m learning a lot from. I was hoping to paint 2 illustrations. I was hoping to read, because I don’t read enough lately and I miss it. It makes me sad and cranky to not read. I was hoping to take on a mini challenge and interact on a group of rebel therapists I’m a part on, because I know I have to show up, show my work and make connections, we all need support in big adventures like changing my practice.
I did not expect that I would only sleep 3hrs before my very early wake up. Nor that I would swim all day long in the ocean and go up 60m high of stairs. I did not expect to have a heavy emotional conversation tonight. I did not expect to feel physically sick that way.
I still have to wake up at 6:15am tomorrow morning. And it’s already 00:24. So I made choices and adapted.
I partly did my illustrations because they would have waited this week end otherwise, and I want to rest this week end. I also did it because they help me relax.
I’m still writing, because I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to right now, and writing always soothes me slightly. I also really don’t want to make up for it tomorrow and one of my rules is to make up for one skipped day, not more.
Afterwards it’s just discouraging, but I’m not ready to skip it entirely either. I will probably have to at some point, I just really don’t want to know. So I’m hurrying into this. I let it be almost intuitive.
I won’t proof read, that can be done tomorrow. I won’t post anywhere (I usually post on my website, and most of the time on a tiny support group on the creative process I created). I still have promised myself more 17 words (9 now). And I believe from the bottom of my heart that nothing is painful as self abandonment. I won’t do any of my PM routine. I won’t even brush my teeth.
I watched a couple of TV shows with my favourite person and my cat, I ate. That’s it. That’s more than enough for today, I’m grateful I don’t have a 9 to 5 or kids to tend to.
Sometimes life takes over, and we end up to do so much less than we intended. And that has to be okay because perfectionism is an addiction and self-abuse. Cutting ourselves some slack, as long as it’s not so regular that it becomes self indulgence and procrastination (the line is fine and blurry), is emotional survival.