I do not have to remind you that we are living in unusual times. But maybe instead I can remind you of something a quite successful contemporary author is purported to have once said.
One time, I was at a Q&A with Nora Roberts, and someone asked her how to balance writing and kids, and she said that the key to juggling is to know that some of the balls you have in the air are made of plastic & some are made of glass.
— Jennifer Lynn Barnes (@jenlynnbarnes) January 23, 2020
The Twitter thread above (which is worth the read) concludes with the idea that sometimes, you might need to drop a plastic ball (which bounces—would take no damage) to save a glass ball (which would otherwise shatter). Since we cannot possibly do everything, we should let go of the things that can stand to be let go of—things that aren’t life or death, or won’t have un-live-with-able consequences.
I try to keep this in mind in my own life. I use the urgency-importance matrix to find balance and a path forward during stressful times. But on top of a busy life, I also have a terrible memory that lets far too many tasks slip through the cracks. And this has hit me especially hard this month. Balls have dropped—glass and plastic alike.
So what should I do? Beat myself up about things I can’t change? Run far and fast from everyone I’ve disappointed, including somehow myself? A past me would have. Current me has moments of panic and thinks about doing exactly that. But no. Instead, I’m giving myself a gift.
The gift of forgiveness.
I have entered each new year thus far still carrying the weight of disappointment in the ways I didn’t meet my own expectations for the previous year. I cannot possibly be the only one who does this. Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you didn’t meet your writing goals, or maybe you didn’t manage to read through your critique partner’s draft like you promised you would do before the holiday season.
I wish I knew how to prevent feeling so rotten about things I can’t change—and I mean a quick-and-easy way, with the snap of my fingers. But the only known cure is a shift in mindset, which takes work over time, and 2021 is nearly over. I can recommend Racquel’s podcast for a start, but how do we feel better now? How do we facilitate forgiving ourselves?
It starts with apologizing to those you might’ve hurt, of course. If the other person forgives you, great! It might get a little easier to forgive yourself once someone else gives you “permission” to do so. If they don’t, well, that can make it even tougher.
But let’s not get off topic. We’re talking about forgiving ourselves. And, hey, we’re writers, right? Naturally, my advice will involve a lot of pen and paper (or dictating or typing, if that is easier for you).
Step One: Write down your mistakes (or, more often for me, make a new to do list).
This might be the most painful step. I know facing my mistakes in black and white makes me cringe, makes me itch, makes me wish I could go back in time and change my actions. I know I suffer guilt for longer than is reasonable simply because my instinct is to avoid this pain.
But doing it anyway gets you one step closer to seeing patterns and underlying cause, and knowing those makes all the difference in how you move forward.
Step Two: Write yourself an apology.
Admit the ways you messed up, yes, but also allow for plenty of reflection. None of us exist in a vacuum. Rarely is something ever one person’s or one factor’s fault.
And at the end of that apology letter, draw a line and write down the words, I forgive you, [your name]. If you don’t believe yourself, write it down a few more times and say the words aloud. Write down why you forgive yourself—because you were trying your best, et cetera.
Step Three: Write a plan (and stick to it).
How can you prevent dropping important and urgent tasks in the future? The next time you have to drop something urgent and important, what can you do to minimize the damage?
Now, the trick is that I don’t know the systems that work for you. Only you can discover those for yourself. But I can tell you that even the simplest, smallest changes can have a big impact, and that, sorry, Yoda had it wrong—there is a “try,” and trying is worth a lot.
I hope this holiday season brings you the rest and rejuvenation you deserve.
Happy Holidays from Writer’s Atelier!
