Habits and Stories
Play with Joy!
Welcome to another installment of The Bittersweet, where I share my search for a richer perspective on the Bittersweet moments that make up modern life.
Hello Friends,
Maybe it’s just me, but January sure is taking her sweet time wrapping up. I know it’s the same 31 days afforded to six other months, but this year, she seems a little aggressive.
On the subject of “time is relative,” I wanted to talk about habits.1 I have real goals that, if given time, can be done, but I don’t give the time, and I want to know why—maybe knowing why will provide the permission I need to redirect.
Las week in my Moring Pages, 2 I came up with a journal prompt about habits and an internal compas. I thought I’d share a little trip through my brain.
I have a habit of …
I have a habit of… prioritizing house chores over my goals. I change the laundry, do the dishes, and quickly sweep the dust bunnies out from under the couch. I need things to be “just so” before I begin…
I have a habit of… scrolling when I should be creating. I check the news, Facebook, and Instagram. For what? The headline, expertly designed to produce an overreactive emotional response? The notification that someone liked the picture of my two-year-old blowing out her candles on her birthday? Both will be there in an hour, but I check anyway.
“But Emily, what if you miss something?” I hear myself say.
In all likelihood, the two or three articles I click on will sit open on my browser for a few days until I close the tab without ever having read it.3
I have a habit of… replaying conflicts aloud in my car. I give the perfect response, the best comeback, one that puts the other person entirely in their place, and they couldn’t possibly refute the absolute wrongness of their side and rightness of mine. I give an Oscar-worthy dirty look, or one single tear slides down my cheek as I walk away, leaving my foe dumbfounded.
I sometimes get caught up in these fantasies when other people are around. I suddenly stop and scan their faces. I resist the urge to ask, “Did you just hear me thinking?”
These are habits I return to over and over, so I must ask myself, “What do they serve? What line is added to the story I tell myself, about myself?
I have a guess…
“You’re not worthy… of happiness, of safety, of creative fulfillment.”
“Your dreams are too lofty, unrealistic, and never going to happen.”
“You’re selfish for wanting more. Look at your life; what else could you possibly need?”
When did I become so afraid? When did I get so comfortable with this negative self-image? I wonder, who installed these buttons? Who laughed when I told them my dreams? Who said they couldn't be done?
I couldn't have always been like this, could I?
Working backwards, what is the next right step?
First, no, I haven’t always been like this. I’m sure before my father died when I was four and my mother died when I was eighteen, and my child died five years ago, I was a little kinder to myself, a little more willing to take risks.
The who or the when don’t feel like the right questions. Maybe the right question is, “When am I going to accept circumstances as they are, including the parts of myself that will always be a little anxious, a little afraid of abandonment, and a little worried about the other shoe?
The negative affirmations in my story are a little tougher becasue they are so easily reinforced by outside sources. My procrastination has turned into a form of self-flatualtion and for an alcoholic like me, pain can be comforting.
As for what these self-sabotoging habits serve? That’s easy, protection.
If my whole personality revolves around being too busy I have a built-in excuse for not following my dreams. I settle for what fits into the margins.
I’m reminded of the movie Inside Out 2. My daughter and I saw it together last summer.
If you haven’t seen it all you need to know is that each character is represented by a human emotion and they operate from inside the brain of Riley, an adolecent girl. (joy, sadness, anger, fear, digust, anxiety, envy, ennui, basically the meh of teenagers, and embarrassment) In the movie, Anxiety takes over Riley’s brain and causes all kinds of problems. When it all comes crashing down Anxiety says, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to protect her.” In the end it’s Joy that saves the day. She takes the controls, the scene slows down, and Riley can see what to do next more clearly.
“Play with Joy!” is something I tell my daughter before a big softball game. Maybe I’ll start using the phrase on myself.
This is where I am today. Thank you for listening.
I have a love-hate relationship with productivity books, but I will put my rubber stamp on Atomic Habits by James Clear—tons of practical advice.
So much irony here… Today I’m complaining about January taking too long when two weeks ago I talked about taking a “slow walk into the new year.” I guess my manifesting is on overdrive. Secondly, my desire to have everything “just so” a.k.a. procrastination is also a theme of this post and I bring it up again as a bad habit here. (insert shrug emoji)
Quick story: Once, the cable company had to come out to fix the internet, a common occurrence in the house we rented last year. The guy told me I would need to reboot my computer, and my heart sank. I pointed to my browser. I kid you not; there were 26 tabs open! His response, “You’re welcome.”
Emily I am so so glad to have your words in my inbox this morning and more often, these days. They are wonderful... deeply relatable and intelligent. Replaying conflicts in the car... a favorite useless yet intoxicating activity!