being unremarkable

I really don’t feel like writing. 

This happens sometimes; I need to blog to stay consistent and meet my goals, but it’s the last thing I want to do, and I’m dead convinced I will have exactly zero good, worthwhile ideas.  Maybe a negative number of good ideas, actually.

There have been many times I have been willing, ready, excited, and inspired to write.  There have been stretches of days in a row when I’ve sat down and felt an easy, creative flow, when the work hasn’t felt like effort, when I’ve wanted to do it and enjoyed doing it, and the words came quickly.

There are also days when it feels like a chore and I remember all the reasons I might not want to do it and everything I’d rather be doing instead.  Days of procrastination and imposter syndrome and my brain generally trying to convince me I’m not a very good writer anyway, or I’m attempting to write too frequently to put out quality work.

But here’s the thing.  Sometimes when I push through the wall trying to block my path and my willingness to write, and I write anyway, sometimes some of my favorite creations come through.  Sometimes I surprise myself.  Sometimes I find out I really did need to write and feel better for having written and am so glad with what’s been created that I then get to publish.

This is how our work goes.  We cannot know when the best ideas will strike, and we can’t know the full contents of what is brewing under the surface, the potential within us, the germination occurring even while we believed our inner worlds to be dormant.  Frankly, none of that is our business, nor should it be.  We are chiefly concerned with who we’re being and with how we’re showing up for our practice.  Those are the things within our control at all times.  

Who am I?  

And what action am I taking?  What good am I getting up to, to make a difference?

The act of faith required to produce a mass amount of work over time asks that you keep checking the box and walking the path, even when you think it might be lame or a waste today. What if it isn’t?

And that’s another thing!  This is about a million practice hits.  One thousand reps.  Learning requires practicing.  We don’t only want a one hit wonder; we’re in this for the long haul.  We’re looking for sustainability and lifelong commitment to developing whatever is inside us that is meant to be born.  That means we’re the kind of people who keep showing up and who do this stuff over and over.  We’re consistent.  We’re dogged and willing and hopeful and unwavering.  We have quiet vision.  The doing is more important than the result, and the doing isn’t dependent on whether or not we feel like it today or think we have a million dollar idea today.  That part doesn’t matter.

Sometimes it’s totally inconsequential whether I will have zero good ideas or write something new, original, interesting, and worthwhile.  Or if I will blunder about on the page for a while and end up with something fine but not too exciting.  Sometimes none of that matters.

What I have to remind myself – on days like today, when I don’t feel like putting my butt in the seat and my hands on my keyboard, when I don’t feel like using my mind and inviting my creativity out for a stretch and stroll – is that the doing of it is the point.  The process is the path and the whole goal.  I have to remember if I stick with this, I’m already winning.  Growing requires practice and time.  The time is going to pass, no matter what, either way; and I can choose to add the practice into it.  If we layer our time with practice for whatever is important to us, the matters of importance will grow and deepen.  I can help my work and vision thrive, just by showing up.

It’s simple, even when it isn’t easy.

You do not have to be remarkable today.  Just bring your good intent, and don’t listen when your brain tries to tell you there’s no point to showing up or following through or trying something. You never know. You might just surprise yourself.  Your best work could be waiting in the wings.  And your vast collection of work – both the mind blowing stuff and the below-average filler work necessary to get through to your best stuff — will never be born if you do not simply keep returning to it, day after day.

It isn’t magic; it’s a basic, trustworthy equation.  You + time + your generous intent + practice + returning over and over = something good.  

Turns out, that’s pretty magical after all.