Author: Casey Jane

Next month I’ll be testing something new on the blog – fiction. 

What? I’ve decided to take on two writing challenges in August: 

1. Complete a daily Morning Pages practice(you can learn more about morning pages here, from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way). 
2. Write and post a complete short story (no more than 1,000 words) on the blog each night. 

Why? Because: 

1. I’ve always wanted to try the Morning Pages method, and my current journaling practice is feeling stale. I’m also finally ready to admit that the post-coronavirus-stay-at-home-always way of being has got me feeling drained and boring, and I’m hoping that this practice will be the thing I need to get me out of bed each morning. Currently I’ve been snoozing for almost an hour (!!!) each morning, which I’ve never done before, and it’s not a habit that I want to stick. 
2. I need something to hold me accountable to actually finishing a piece of work and publishing it. I’m the kind of writer whose subconscious generates new writing ideas constantly, in order to keep me distracted from the difficult work of actually taking an idea, drafting it out, revising it, and then putting it out there for other people to see it. I’m hoping by posting this and keeping my daily word count small (1,000 words or less), I’ll build up some creative confidence to get back into working on longer projects. Ray Bradbury says to write a short story every week, because “it’s not possible to write 52 short stories in a row.” But honestly, even a week is enough time for me to start doubting myself and find something new and flashy to get started on, so I’m going with one a day instead. 

How? Well, right now I’m thinking: 

1. I’ll keep my journal next to my bed each morning and write from there, which satisfies my intense desire to not physically get up while still getting my morning started, a win-win! 
2. Scheduling one hour every afternoon to write a first draft and another hour each night to edit and post. Also convincing myself that not many people read this blog and therefore won’t see these is helpful for (somewhat) getting over the fear of posting less-than-perfect works. For right now done is better than perfect. 

When? Refer to title. August. 

Who? Did you even read this post? 

Where? Whoever you are, you are creepy and I don’t like these questions. Just kidding, please excuse my lame humor, I’ve only interacted with a handful of humans since March and I think I’ve lost a good amount of my social skills <laughs uncomfortably then runs away> 

Author Zadie Smith observes that “progress is never permanent, will always be threatened, must be redoubled, restated, and reimagined if it is to survive.” Let it serve as a reminder for white allies that this movement does not stop when it no longer trends on social media, when the temporary profile photos age out, when the marches end. Let it show us how the statistics, the stories, and the understanding, that we have picked up during this time must continue to be carried. Seek rest before you think you need it and let go of your guilt for finding moments of laughter and community around something other than change, but don’t stop thinking through the lens of change ever again. Don’t tuck this moment into the pages of your calendar or bury it with new posts online. Keep it where you can: in the back of your mind, on the tip of your tongue, close to your heart. This is only our beginning. 

One afternoon, scrolling Instagram, I saw a post from my university creative writing program announcing that our school’s literary and art journal, Colonnades, went digital. Now the last ten years of Colonnades have been archived online, including Issue 65, in which a short story I wrote was published during my junior year.

Seeing this made me smile. At a time when I’ve finally come back to a consistent fiction writing practice after years of abandoning it, trying to return, and feeling like I’ve lost it, it was a nice reminder that anything you were once good at, anything that once brought you joy, will return to you if you are patient, and if you want it to. Archives are there for us to revisit, to come back to the things we felt were worth saving for later, and to remind us that we are capable of doing something worthy again.

So thanks creative writing & Elon U. That was really dope.

A new habit I’m developing: writing on paper.

Is this a foreign concept? So many of us live entirely inside of the screens of our computers, phones, iPads that we’ve started to put everything into them, both our work and our play. For me, that means I spend my nine to five reading and composing emails, creating decks, editing spreadsheets and (now that we’re all sheltering in place) attending virtual meetings all from the screen of my laptop. Then when I’m finished with work, I turn to my personal project of writing, both items for this blog as well as fiction, and my brain is fried. It simmers and snaps while I try to force it to shift out of business-mode and into creation-mode, also resisting the urge to click that new notification that just popped up. It’s too much.

On one of my now-infrequent trips to the market I saw a stack of composition books and I bought one. It sat at my desk unused for a few days until I daydreamed an idea for a story and started to write. Instead of opening an intimidatingly blank Word document, I got a pen and wrote by hand. 
Since then, I’ve been writing every day, sometimes just a sentence, sometimes five or ten pages. It’s slow going—I’m not a fast writer, my hand cramps up, and sometimes my brain goes faster than my writing can—but it’s happening. And unlike a fleeting Word document, I can’t erase a paragraph I don’t think is quite right, or just delete the whole thing entirely when I convince myself it’s not good enough. Somehow having the physical words on the page forces me to just keep moving forward, allowing me to write more in the past month than I have in the entire past year. 

I think that things get better when we move them off of screens, at least for a time. Having a notebook just for my creative writing jumpstarts me into that brain space every time I pick up the pen. Now I want notebooks for all the creative and ambitious projects I have, but I’m holding out to see if this sticks first.

Speaking of stuck, I also think that sometimes normalizing our routines can lead us into a rut without realizing it. I won’t jump on the optimism bandwagon and say that this pandemic is a good thing, but I will say that maybe some of the discomfort we are experiencing as a result of this virus is a signal to us that we have become overly complacent in our “normal” lives: our routines, our pathways, our beliefs, our people. It took a global shutdown for me to find the space mentally and physically to work sustainably towards a lifelong goal of writing more fiction, and it shouldn’t have. 

If you can, use this time to see what you can shake up in your own life to reprioritize towards your own dreams and goals. Even if it’s as simple as spending three dollars at the market for a composition notebook.

Hey there.

It’s been a minute.

Between moving to a new city, starting a new job, and a global pandemic, things have been wild. And so has the internet. I mean, isn’t it loud on here right now? Now more than ever everyone has an opinion, and everyone wants you to know about it. I’ve been taking things in, thinking things over, and trying (like everyone else) to figure out what’s next. 

From that, I’m planning a little blog revamp (new May, new me?) so expect some changes in the next few days, and hopefully more posts following. Until then, enjoy the noise, or spend some time in your own silence. Always your choice.

This year for Valentine’s Day I decided to write myself a love letter. The next day I would be moving to a new city and this letter felt like a way for me to celebrate the person I’ve become and also prepare for a new chapter. As I started to write, it was way harder than I anticipated. Why is it so much easier for us to identify the qualities we love in those around us, but so difficult in ourselves? Maybe because we don’t do it enough. Maybe because a Valentine’s Day love letter should be something I spend more than just one day a year on, something I cultivate in myself day by day.

Dear Casey,

I don’t always do the best job of showing it, but I really do love the shit out of you. There are plenty of lives I spend time envying, but I wouldn’t pick anyone else to be, ever. I’m with you all the way.

Don’t ever forget that you are a force to be reckoned with. Your bravery has taken you through so many experiences others would be too terrified to try, and it will continue to lead you if you let it. Tell your fear to fuck off. Tell your insecurities to chill. People will tell you it’s unwise to go for what you want, to take risks for yourself and for the people you love. Good thing you are a terrible listener.

But do be careful, because all too often you turn your tremendous force back on yourself, in judgement and shame and regret. It’s finally time to put down the memories you’ve been beating yourself with, the worries and anxieties that threaten you. Maybe it’s also time to put down the scale you use to weigh the merits of those around you, because it’s just too harsh. People are not files on a computer, you can’t organize them to your specifications, you can’t satisfy yourself by suffering over the details. All you can do is love them.

Because they certainly love you. It’s a true testament, the people spanning across the country that will always be there for you. They love your determined, competitive side as much as they love the silly, soft and vulnerable side. They love that you would rather spend time outside, or at the gym, or reading a book than out at a bar or binge-watching Netflix. They love that you take the stranger on the street to Popeye’s and give him twenty dollars for dinner and a bus ticket (even though you should probably stop doing that), and when you have a love like that there is really very little else that you need.

You have it all, girl. Your long legs can carry you the distance of all the places you want to see, your strong arms can carry all the books you’ll ever want, your hungry mind will get you in and then out of all the best and worst situations and everything else is covered by your unstoppable heart.

Life so far has not been what you had planned, that’s for sure. I think it had to happen that way, to stir up that deep-hidden sense of adventure within you. And to remind you that ultimately, it’s not up to you. Keep making your lists and thinking through your strategies because honestly there’s no way for you to stop, but do it knowing that there is so much more at work than you.

I will always be in your corner. I will always be ready to pick you up when you’re down and to run with you when you’re wild. And I can’t wait to see what you do next.

Love,

You & the universe

It’s finally that time of year, friends! It’s that time of year when we take a closer look at our lives and our goals and decide what we might want to do differently in the new year. I freaking LOVE hearing other people talk about their goals, and I especially love spending time formulating my own.

If you want to set yourself up for goal success, there’s no better way than using the SMART method: writing out goals that are specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time-based.

But what if you don’t want to be SMART?

This year, I’m not setting goals for myself. Because I know that this year I’m going to be moving to a new city and starting a new job, both of which are difficult enough without also training for a marathon or writing a novel. But are those still things that I’d love to do? Totally! So how can I work towards those big goals I have for my life without setting myself up for disappointment in 2020?

Answer: not sure. BUT, here’s what I decided to try:

Every year I do things a bit differently, and this year I’ll be honest, I went a bit overboard on goal setting. Insert warning about how being over-ambitious in setting goals makes you less likely to reach them BLAH BLAH BLAH I’M EXCITED OK?!? If you get excited about this stuff too, I say it’s ok to be a little too zealous in your goal planning. Overtime as things get harder, you can reassess if your goal of writing an entire novel in a month is really what you want to be spending your time on or not and adjust from there. But keep in mind this post I wrote about how if you think it’s hard, that’s because it is, and that’s ok.

If you’re struggling to get started, or need a way to organize your goals, here are the two things I did to map out my year:

1. Spend time journaling

Start with time spent reflecting on yourself and your year without a specific end result in mind. Do this in a way that you feel most comfortable with, not in a way that you feel has to be perfect. You could take notes in a Word document, record a voice memo, write it out in a notebook, or even talk things through with someone close to you. There’s no rhyme or reason to this part, it’s just meant to get you into the right mindset for setting effective goals that will really have an impact on your life. Notice what you spend time thinking about. Are you writing about healthy eating habits or committing to a new gym because you actually want those things, or because you think you’re supposed to want those things? Let yourself be bold and wild here. Explore your secret desire to be a travel photographer or to meet the love of your life, that’s fine! This doesn’t have to be SMART or whatever, it just has to be authentic to you.

This Instagram post by nutritionist Adee Cazayoux is what I used for my journaling this year. I started by brain dumping a bunch of random thoughts and then tying them loosely to the sentence prompts she provides. After talking it through a bit with my boyfriend, I cleaned up my thoughts to form the following 8 responses:

In 2020, I want to…

Start eating cleaner and building better nutritional habits,

Learn more about local and national politics,

Try creating and maintaining a new podcast,

Continue reading a large number of diverse books,

Quit putting off my writing,

Be kind to everyone, in every situation,

Have a space that I love in Washington, DC (where I’ll be moving to in February!),

Stop complaining and making excuses for myself.

Notice that these are NOT goals; I haven’t written these to be something I can track or measure specifically. These are foundations for the type of life I want to lead and the things I want to be able to say I accomplished in 2020.

2. Select 3 values

Now that your brain is revved up and ready, take a look at the things you journaled about and zoom out even further, trying to come up with broad themes that will encompass your year. I recommend choosing 2-3 words that remind you of the values you’ve been thinking about. Choose words that are meaningful and memorable to you, and again, don’t try to make this perfect. I say that mainly for myself, because I spent a lot of time making my three words all start with the same letter (insert eye-rolling emoji here).

This year, the three values I selected are give, grow, glow. Here’s why those words are important to me:

Give: In 2019 I took way more than I gave. I took the hospitality of my parents who let me stay with them rent free while I searched for a new job, I took the selfless help of my friends who helped me move and navigate a brand new city with no car and no sense of direction, and I took time from mentors and managers to position myself for a life I’m truly happy with. So in 2020, I want to focus on giving some of that back, including giving my time, resources, and energy to less self-centered pursuits.

Grow: This year I’ll be working a new (dream) job in a(nother) new city. Those aren’t my only firsts: it will also be my first year with my CF L1 certification coaching in a Crossfit gym, and my first time living with a significant other (eek!). I’m viewing these new opportunities and any others that pop up through the lens of how I can use them to learn and get better.

Glow: I have a tendency to have a smidge of an attitude problem, and it’s about time I grow up. I can be rude to service people, I can be short tempered with people I care about, I can be lazy and negligent to the things I want to be focused on. Last year I was shocked by how much time I spent complaining to people and making excuses for myself, and this year I’m putting an end to it. To me, the word glow symbolizes dogged optimism, humble kindness, and the free spirit that I most admire in other people and am trying to epitomize in myself.

With these values and the goals I journaled about in mind, I’ve set myself up with a really easy check at the end of each day to determine if I’m on track in 2020 or not. All I have to do is ask myself who I gave to, how I grew, and if I glew (just kidding. Was glowing?).

That’s it. Now let’s get to 2020.

January 2019 

This was not how things were supposed to go for me. How had I ended up here, moving back in with my parents in North Carolina with no job and no idea what I was doing? I missed my friends, I missed my independence, and I missed this one guy in particular who showed up in my life just weeks before I left. I spent an average of 3 hours a day on Instagram, scrolling through all the lives I wished were my own. 

February 2019 

Found a job at a yoga studio, and then another, and then another. Now I averaged 3 hours a day at the gym, although I kept to myself and didn’t talk to many people. My mom became my best friend. I read at least a book a week, usually more, because it made me feel like I was doing something productive. Nights were reserved for FaceTime with friends in other states (geographically and mentally), and with that guy I missed who somehow always made me feel better about everything. Dozens of job applications completed, with only two or three responses: thanks for applying, but…

March 2019

My sister and my mom sit in my room, watching me try on clothes, telling me what to keep and what to donate. A job offer in San Francisco was my surprise 26th birthday present, and though my dad offers me a job just to stay, but my bags are already packed. I part with books and clothes and pieces of myself that I don’t need or won’t fit. I celebrate with a trip to Seattle with that guy I’ve been wanting to see again ever since I left Tulsa. Are we really going to do this? We ask ourselves, but there is really only one answer. 

April 2019 

California is everything. I love all of its best and worst parts: the taco trucks, the Muni, the hills, the dog parks, the four roommates and one cat, the beach, the wine. I walk everywhere, I want to see everything. People tell me I should get a bike, but I don’t want to miss anything. I am also too clumsy to be trusted, as the guy reminds me on FaceTime one night. I am in the honeymoon phase with my life, with the city, with my job, and with him. 

May 2019

Walking home from Whole Foods with two bags of groceries, a man starts to follow me. I pick up the pace, change directions quickly and try to lose him, but every time I glance back he’s there. I don’t know where else to go so I go home. I run up the stairs and my hands are shaking as I put my keys in the lock. When I go inside he is standing at the foot of the stairs and smiling up at me. I shut and lock the door and watch from the front window as he paces back and forth down the street, talking to himself. He runs up to the door, bangs on the glass like he wants to break it. He rings the doorbell, “I know you’re in there,” he says. 

June 2019

My boss goes on paternity leave for a month, and I am adopted into a new team with a new manager. With him, everything that I do is wrong. Day by day he strips away the tasks and responsibilities I was given and tells me to sit back and support. Not my style. I feel like I am meaningless here. Good thing I have good friends, who have amazingly popped up all over the place, inviting me into their worlds filled with French food and experimental cocktails and day trips all over the state. 

July 2019

The guy comes to town for July 4th, but it is too foggy to see any fireworks. We go to the Exploratorium instead. I am always impressed by his willingness to do anything to make people laugh, to make people feel happy and comfortable. When he leaves, my life settles back into its routine: the bus, a cubicle from 9-5, the gym, home. I feel like I could do more, be more, but I like my routine. I feel safe there. 

August 2019

After four months I am reunited with my dog, who bounds excited and somewhat disoriented from the plane to greet me. He poops on a succulent and growls at every dog we pass on the way home, but he seems to like all the smells and loves the food and trash he gets to eat off the San Francisco streets. In the mornings I take him with me to the track for a run and during the day he hangs out in my room and avoids the house cat. Still, it doesn’t quite feel like home here. 

September 2019

A new offer, this one coming all the way from Washington, DC. This job sounds like a dream to me, and I tell myself not to get my hopes up, that eventually they will realize that I’m not ready, I’m not the girl they think I am. But the more they believe in me the more I start to believe in myself. I can do more. I can be more. But how can I feel ready to leave this place where I’ve always wanted to be? Then the guy says he thinks he would like DC…

October 2019

I start to say goodbye to the city, knowing that I can always come back whenever I want. It’s hard to leave something behind that I have always thought I would want forever, but by now I know that I can do hard things. I also know that life is linear but living it isn’t; you can always go back, and sometimes that’s the same as moving forward. 

November 2019

In three days the guy and I see Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Albuquerque, and Oklahoma City. He sneaks embarrassing pictures of me when I fall asleep in the car. We stop often to see the view and let the dog pee, and we catch up on all the podcasts we’ve always wanted to listen to. For Thanksgiving I make my mom’s famous pecan tarts and bring them to his family’s house, and we spend the day playing spoons and secretly shotgunning cans of beer with his cousin outside. It is the best Thanksgiving I have ever had. 

December 2019

I sit in a Santa Cruz coffee shop, writing these words and getting ready to get in the ocean. In three days I head back to North Carolina, where this year began. I am still the same person but I feel so different. The last time I was in North Carolina I felt like I had ruined my life. This time, I accept that my life has a lot more resilience than that. 

Next year I will move to Washington DC to become the Director of Operations for a venture capital and business advisory group. Actually, we will move. Because 2020 wouldn’t be complete without my dog. Or without that guy I’ve been telling you about. 

Things I read on social media don’t often stick with me, but I came across a post earlier this week that I can’t get out of my head. Ben Bergeron, a Crossfit coach who has both an interesting book and podcast, posted the following list under the title “How Do You Grow?” 

• Choose education over entertainment
• Read non-fiction over fiction
• Watch documentaries over movies/tv
• Listen to podcasts over music/talk radio
• Self analysis over judging others

We all want to be better tomorrow than we are today. We all have goals or dreams or ideas to pursue. There is lots of advice out there about how to move towards those things, but this advice bothers me. Not because I enjoy fiction and TV shows and music and don’t want to give them up, but because this list isn’t how you grow. It’s how you become a robot. 

Coach Bergeron mentors world-class athletes, and so if your goal in life is singular, and if your world revolves around that one thing then maybe you should listen to him and not me. If you want to be a champion wrestler or pasta-maker and you know  that without a doubt in your soul then yes, skip the bar crawl for a practice session and don’t start that binge-inducing new series when you could use that time to sharpen your skills. 

But if your goals are more holistic, and if you get purpose from getting better in lots of aspects of your life, I think this is misguided. I don’t believe in being prescriptive about becoming a better person, and I think there are a ton of ways to see and find growth that don’t include giving up art and experiences.

So what did I do as a result of this post from a stranger that has no real impact on my life except that I just could NOT let it go? 

Obviously, I made a list. 

Plain Plain Casey Jane’s Thoughts On How You Grow: 

You learn from every experience 

Develop (or cultivate) a love of learning. If you start looking for learning opportunities you will find them in everything you do, whether you are doing something with the intention of “educating” yourself or not. Angela Duckworth’s incredible book Grit uses science to prove that the best way to ensure success is to persevere, but I learned more about determination and attitude from an experience I had climbing a rock wall next to a six-year-old. Take every moment and learn from it, whether it’s in the form of taking notes on a lecture or soaking in a conversation with new people.

You read more

Read whatever you want to read. Reading is always going to be good for you, it’s never going to be a bad thing, so feel free to do more of it. 

If you aren’t a big fan of reading you can sub in things like audiobooks, but I still recommend having a physical book that you can hold and carry with you and see yourself progressing through. You don’t have to read fast, and you always have permission (my permission, at least) to stop reading books you don’t like. And just for a quick list inside of a list, if you’re looking for good book recommendations, here are three of my current favorite FICTION (cough cough, Ben) books that I am convinced every person on the planet would find interesting, if not full-on enjoy: 
1. The Friend by Sigrid Nunez
2. The Secret History by Donna Tartt
3. Fates & Furies by Lauren Groff

If you want to become more of a reader, try reading when you either can’t sleep, are bored, or are obsessing over a particular problem or worry. If you already love to read, try reading at stop lights while you’re driving, in the dentist’s chair getting your teeth cleaned, and at your high school prom, all of which I have done and can personally attest to being great (if not particularly safe) decisions.

You curate your content

Thanks to technology it is possible to start and end my day without experiencing silence at all. At home, at work, and in transit I can stuff my hours with podcasts, music, audiobooks, the news, the radio, a TV episode, and conversations with anyone I want. I can constantly be on intake mode, listening as much as I possibly can. This is an enticing way to live, because it feels uber-productive. My list of books read and podcasts listened to and TV shows binged (all at the same time!) is ever-growing. But when I get into this habit, it’s easy for me to focus on how great of a multi-tasker I am and not actually give myself space to analyze or digest or even think about, well, anything.

Instead of becoming a human marketplace, trafficking a constant flow of anything and everything through your brain, become the curator of your mental space. Look at everything you consume critically, the way you would if you were putting it on display, and then decide what you want to keep and what you can let go of.

Also thanks to technology, you can always get back anything you release, so don’t worry about making the “right” choice. Once you’ve trimmed some of the fat, use that new time to do something intake-free. This could be producing something of your own, or taking on a practice of silence, whether that be in stationary meditation or taking a walk or jog without your headphones on.

You create something you care about 

Don’t fill your days taking things in without giving anything back. The process of putting something out into the world will give you significantly more growth than the process of taking something out of it. Try to relax into this. Don’t focus so much on what it is or how good it is (see my previous post on creating, even if it’s shitty) just focus on doing something, and be curious about where it can lead you. Maybe you create something you want to share with others, or maybe it’s just for yourself. The act of building is the most important part, not what becomes of the thing you’ve built.

You observe yourself and others

Listen, I’m hella on the self-awareness bandwagon. There is so much value in focusing on yourself, your growth, your decisions, and your path, instead of worrying about how anyone else is behaving. But I also think that there is too much to be learned from others to just ignore them entirely. Watching the people around you, listening to what they have to say even if you don’t think you will agree or understand, is fortifying your personal lexicon of life.

This is not to say that it’s kosher to judge other people for the things you hear them say or see them do. As my sassy southern mama would remind me, “that’s between them and Jesus.” But I don’t have to learn everything by doing it myself, and I definitely won’t learn it all by reading books or watching documentaries. A lot of learning comes from seeing things first hand, so open your eyes and observe the world around you. Learning from yourself and others also gives you more empathy, perspective, and understanding. You know, all the important shit that actually makes you a genuinely good person.

I don’t think Coach Bergeron was being finite in his list, and neither am I. So what else do you think we could add to our list of how to grow?

A phrase, from the wall of my old gym: it never gets easier, you just get better. 

It’s a statement that is as true of life as it is of Crossfit, and I think that’s how we want things to be. Working hard makes us better people, and I know I’m not the only person who likes to do hard work and call themselves a hard worker. 

Developing a solid work ethic is a great way to live your life, and is the only way to reach any meaningful goals. But it also means you can create a life around constantly going hard and never giving yourself a break. 

Lately I’ve started to feel like everything I’m working on is just hard, and not actually getting me towards my goals, which is basically my worst nightmare (anyone else out there hate feeling like they aren’t good enough?). I’ve been waking up tired, rushing from thing to thing trying to cross as much off my to-do list as possible, and straining not to let my frustrations bubble to the surface in front of other people. I’m struggling to take feedback on projects at work because it means I have to take more time to get it done right. I’m struggling to keep from yelling when I miss a lift at the gym because it means I have to try again. I’m struggling not to snap at my family and friends when they offer me advice because it means other people have this kind of stuff under control but I don’t. 

But I overheard something on the train a few days ago that was comforting to me: if you think it’s hard, that’s because it is. 

If you think getting up early to get to work on time is hard, that’s because it is. It would be way easier to hit snooze and snuggle back under the covers. 

If you think it’s hard to run a mile further than you did last time, that’s because it is. it would be way easier to slow it down to a walk, or to skip it altogether. 

If you think whatever your’e working towards is hard, that’s because it is. Work is never easy, no matter how long you’ve been doing it or how much you want to do it. Hard work is hard, not because you are inadequate or unworthy or doing it wrong. It just is. 

So then what? Do we give up? Do we stop doing the hard things when it feels hard? Maybe. I’m not an advice guru. I’m not writing this to give you the “3 Tips to Beat Burnout!” Or the “5 Secrets You Should Know When You’re Feeling Worn Out!” Or whatever. But for me, I know that’s not an option. I know that a life without work isn’t what I want. So I do my best to push when I can, and rest when I can’t. I do my best to do my best. And I take comfort in the little things I overhear on the bus that remind me that I’m justified in feeling like it’s hard, because it is. 

I remind myself of people I admire who have achieved great things. I remind myself of the writer Elizabeth Gilbert who tells us to show up, everyday, and do the work just to do it, without thinking about the eventual outcome. Or the athlete Katrin Davidsdottir who compares herself to a sled dog, an animal that loves to do its job each day and never stops even if it doesn’t know exactly where it’s going. 

I show up, each day as I am and trust that while it never gets easier, I am getting better. And that’s good enough.