On Sparkling: In Which I Examine Why I Don't Write

Sadly, my "dolls" have the opposite effect.
My friend Patrick can be relied upon for unexpected and amusing non sequiturs delivered via text. So I was intrigued when he appeared on my phone last week saying, "I've given this a lot of thought." I watched the three dots expectantly, wondering what delight awaited me.

 "You suck at regular blogging."

 Hm. That was unexpected but hardly amusing, especially because it's painfully true. Regular blogging falls somewhere between carrying a full cup of liquid without spilling it and doing jumping jacks on the list of things I suck at. Four blog ideas have rattled around my head for months, and I haven't managed to put finger to keyboard since January. What the hell is going on?

 On the surface, there's plenty. I continue to work part time. My leadership coaching program also continues, now with the bonus of three pro bono clients. I have scattered doctors' appointments plus regular wellness ones (chiropractor, massage, etc.). It isn't the most demanding schedule, but adding anything to the mix is hard when showering requires a 15 minute recovery period before I can make it out of the bedroom. If I work all afternoon, lifting my arms to the keyboard after hours is an exhausting proposition. On the rare occasions I have remaining energy, I tell myself should devote it to exercise (something I also suck at doing regularly of late).

 Here's the thing: I could schedule my day better. I could write in the morning, as I'm doing right now. I could make it a daily habit. I genuinely like (and hate*) writing this confessional-informational blog. So what gives? Why can't I get my shit together to do it?

 Luckily, there's a tool for that! Immunity to Change (ITC) posits that "failure to meet our goals may be the result of an emotional immune system that helps protect us from the fallout that can come from change--namely disappointment and shame."** Last spring I had the good fortune to participate in an ITC workshop delivered by two of my brilliant colleagues. What was my improvement goal?
This is an Immunity Map worksheet. You can get a blank one online.
I AM COMMITTED TO MAKING TIME TO WRITE ON A REGULAR BASIS.

 It's been a year, and I have yet to reach my goal. Still, the insight I got from this exercise has stuck with me. The basic idea of the chart is that column one is what I want. Column two is what I'm doing (or not doing) that prevents me from achieving my goal. Column three begins to unpack the why of it all, listing good reasons why I'm behaving the way I am. And column four both blows things to their extremes and reveals some underlying and (in my case, at least) previously unexamined truth.
I assume that now that my body is failing me, all I have to offer are my smarts and wit -- and if I don’t sparkle in all things I do, people will stop putting up with my limitations - and if people stop putting up with my limitations, my friends (and spouse) will leave me - and if they disappear, I will have to move back in with my parents.***

 My friends, in rational moments, I don't think you will abandon me just because my body is in decline. That said, I must acknowledge that I worry constantly about being a burden. It's no fun watching my 80-year-old mother, who has her own mobility issues, roll my suitcase into the airport and hoist it onto the scale. Or making half a dinner only to get out of the kitchen because I literally can't stand the heat. Some nights after going to bed I ask Neal to fetch three separate things on three separate trips because I can't do it myself (nor can I gather my thoughts enough to make a single request). If you socialize with me, I will sparkle with all my might to make up for the fact that I'm likely to need you to go for a napkin run or walk me to the bathroom or, heaven forbid (but it's happened), cut my damn food for me.

 It may seem silly that this same impulse arises with blogging since I can't very well ask anything of you except your attention, but I'll be damned if I'm going to serve up mediocre slices of my beautiful, mostly intact mind for your consumption! You deserve better, especially since I am burdening you with my trials and tribulations. (See column four's "being whine-y = being a less good friend.") As I'm trying to wrap this up, I'm worried that this hasn't been funny enough and that I don't know how to stick the landing. Perhaps I will let it go this time.

 Pat, I'll try to be easier on myself to ensure you have something to read on your commute. Thanks for inspiring me to write again.
*I don't trust people who write who don't have a healthy dose of hate with their love of the craft.
**I pulled this quote from a Harvard Extension School article, which I highly recommend but is unlinkable. Google it! There's also a whole book about the subject. And this terrific video.
***Mom and Dad, I love you dearly. I just don't want to live with you. I hope you understand.

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