Stories & Creativity & Something I Hate
Story Time
In last week’s newsletter, I referenced Lori Gottlieb’s interview on Jen Hatmaker’s Podcast and her book, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone.
I’m considering framing this part:
Truly, it’s the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and what we can and can’t do that define us.
Here’s a small exercise: Grab some paper and something to write with.
Make a list of some (or all) of the things you believe about yourself and your abilities — they can be both specific and general.
I’ll go first, by way of example (and jaw-dropping vulnerability).
These are some things I have believed about myself:
I’m horrible at math.
I’m not good at domestic tasks (cleaning schedules, cooking, baking, meal planning, laundry).
I’m easily overwhelmed.
I suck at details.
I can’t get my act together.
I’m a nervous wreck.
I’m a terrible mother.
(I sound lovely, don’t I? No wonder we beat ourselves up all the time.)
Next, think for a minute about the way your nearest and dearest friends would describe you if someone said to them, “What’s [Beth] like?” *Go with your dearest friends here, not family; family is too complicated.*
And then, make a list of those things. BE HONEST about what you know/think they’d say. If you truly have no idea, ASK THEM.
I bet, in that list, the one where your dearest people are describing you, many of the things they’d say would focus on your best qualities, those that are likely the opposite of the things you listed the first time.
And finally, after looking at both lists, sit with your first and ask yourself if these things are really, definitively true and if so, are they permanent? Meaning, could you change them . . . IF you wanted to? And if so, do you want to?
Example again:
I’m horrible at math. [Is this really true? Kind of. There are probably people more horrible at math than I am, but it is not my strength. Is this permanent/can I change it, if I wanted? I can absolutely change it. With sites like Khan Academy, there is nothing preventing me from learning and studying math for free for as long as I want, if I want. Do I want to? Honestly, not really. I’d rather focus on writing better than math-ing better].
So what if I changed my story from, “I’m horrible at math” with its implied, “therefore I suck,” to “Writing is more of a strength for me than math is. I choose to focus my efforts on getting better at writing than on trying to improve my math skills. Fortunately, there are calculators and accountants and bookkeeping software that can handle the math stuff I’m not willing to figure out on my own.
Now, is this story true? YES. The biggest win here is that I change my perspective from a dum-dum who was born with a dumb math brain to someone who understands her strengths and weakness and CHOOSES where to place her energy and focus —someone who has a plan for dealing with difficult tasks. Saying, “I’m not willing to work to figure this out” is far more empowering and TRUE than saying, “I can’t do this, therefore, I suck.”
It’s not hard to see which story lets me beat myself up and feel like a loser and which story encourages me and acknowledges my competency.
This was a wimpy example. The real benefit of this work comes when we look at stories like those further down my list. But the process is the same.
The next time you find you’re trash-talking your own beautiful self, pause to ask if what you believe in that instance is really true or permanent?
Next up: I loved this from Sarah Bessey’s latest newsletter about creating:
Madeleine L’Engle wrote in her excellent book Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, “The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness.” We’re bringing order out of chaos, beauty out of emptiness, something out of nothing, and so we’re glorifying Creator, we’re reflecting Creator, we’re testifying to Creator.
Lovely, huh? It made me think of my beautiful, creative young friend, Addison. And another oh so creative friend, Ali.
A Quick Word About Exercise
I hate it.
I know some of you love it and I wish I were like you. I mean it.
I have friends who run. Like, on purpose. When no one’s even chasing them. (Looking at you Donna and Juliane and Jonathan). And I have another friend, Cindy, who used to run and is so bummed because a knee injury makes that difficult, if not impossible. Bless.
I really wish it were possible for me to be bummed about not running.
But there is GOOD NEWS for #olds like me who hate exercise!
In what is probably the definitive word on how little exercise we can get away with, a new study finds that a mere four seconds of intense intervals, repeated until they amount to about a minute of total exertion, lead to rapid and meaningful improvements in strength, fitness and general physical performance among middle-aged and older adults.
4 seconds! That comes from a New York Times article covering a recent study (you can read the actual study here if that’s your jam) first involving young, fit participants and then an older group. The study used specialized equipment that most of us don’t have, but the study’s authors suggest that at home if we were “to sprint up a hill or staircase as hard as possible or run and jump in place vigorously or furiously pedal” on a bike, we could likely achieve the same results with 8-second intervals. Sub-10 seconds sounds doable.
I just may give it a try — if the yoga I vowed to try (again) this year falls through.
A Word on Happiness
Like Queen Anne Lamott, I believe “happiness is an inside job . . . you can't buy it, lease it, rent it, or date it,” which she acknowledges is horrible news, but true nonetheless.
That aside, I did find some things on this list that are worth trying. Scroll through these ideas to boost 4 types of happiness chemicals and see what you think.
100+ Hacks for Boosting Your Happiness Chemicals
A quote I’ve been thinking about:
You see, one really doesn’t change that much. In many ways, I have a feeling that I am exactly as I was as a child, when I spent my life reading and painting. And then, erroneously, for a while, I was involved in trying to live like a grown-up, and then I got old, and now I’m back doing what comes naturally. I just read and paint. — The Work and Wisdom of Hedda Sterne
xo,
Beth
P.S. If you’re concerned about my list above, don’t worry; I’m ok. I’m doing the work. :)
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