To pause or persevere

That is the question of the summer

Last summer, while unsuccessfully trying to fit square-shaped work dreams into small circles of free time, I told myself I’d never do that again. 

But here we are…again. 

I’m finally sitting here fully alone and ready to write, but my brain isn’t here yet. It’s still in mom mode. It’s wondering how JeeWoo’s doing at his morning camp. It’s needing some unraveling from a morning that was challenging. It’s not prepared to leave the house again in just a few hours. 

It’s tired from the push and pull.

For almost a month, it’s felt like a rope in a heated game of tug-of-war between working and momming.

For a few hours here and some measly minutes there, it’ll seep deep into a bout of writing or creating, but before it knows it, it’s yanked into something else it’s not quite ready for.

Like right now. It’s been pulled into solo time that can now be used for writing, but it’s just not having it.

Sigh. 

I told my sanity and my “Present Mom” hat that I’d keep my professional plate lighter this summer, but here I am, trying to eat an elephant with a toothpick.

My creativity is hungry for so many things…

• working with more book clients

• launching a store of digital products for self-publishing

• preparing for a talk on vulnerability in September

• finishing that second book

…but in this season, it doesn’t have enough time to eat. 

I’m trying to do too many things in too little time. I’m trying to serve gourmet meals through drive-thru windows.

With that, I’m starting to snap again. Like…more than once in a day. And tears are finding my eyes too easily. 

JeeWoo deserves more.
Everyone around me does. 
(I do, too!!)

So, here I sit, faced with a decision in front of this impossible feast:

Do I pause this newsletter for the summer or do I push through? Do I bravely give myself a break or do I figure out a clever way to make it work?

I mean, one of the main reasons I write this thing is to build resilience and stay in the practice of writing. Every time I publish a new one, I’m proud of myself for seeing it to the end. And through alllll the processing and returning with fresh eyes, I ALWAYS learn something. 

But that’s the thing. 

I don’t have my usual space for “alllll the processing.” If I keep these newsletters rolling out, something has to change.

“JUST MAKE THEM SHORTER,” I hear you begging.

“Share some writing you’ve been hiding,” whisper all the finished stories collecting dust in my Google Docs.

“Just make videos!” says the spontaneous side of me that’s ALWAYS posting Insta-Stories. I have no problem hitting record at the most random of times, but when it comes to making a newsletter, I feel…pressure. 

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That’s just it!

With these newsletters, I feel pressure to make them perfect. I feel pressure to tie ALL the things together and to start from scratch every time. Meanwhile, I’m forgetting what the theme of this whole thing is about:

Redefining BIG. 

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I think I just answered my question. I think I just made a decision that lit a new fire under my tired, flat butt. 

This summer, I will dig into what it really means to redefine BIG. With this creative space — that I, and only I have complete control over — I will take some risks and persevere.

I’ll play around with all the suggestions above. I’ll repurpose. I’ll reinvent. I’ll rethink.

But for now, I will do the BIGGEST thing that’s needed for ANY creative process and what David, my mom, and my body are always telling me to do:

I will REST.

<laces up tennies and heads outside for a run>

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<comes back to type one more thing>

Let’s not ignore the power of pausing here, K?

While I’m choosing to keep moving with the newsletter, I *am* choosing to pause other things on that bulleted list above, and I hope that if you’re in a similar place of overwhelm that you give yourself permission to do the same.

Your dreams ain’t going anywhere.

All in due time, baby. All in due time.

Until next time,