Hey everyone,
The other day, Sam (a.k.a. the spousal unit) was watching a paramedic reality show and I walked in on a particularly gruesome scene. After I’d averted my eyes and questioned my husband’s taste in television repeatedly, he pondered how it was interesting that the people with the most high-pressure jobs often seemed to be the most calm and in control.
There they stood, waiting for the chopper to bring in patients who were fighting desperately for their lives, and they were smoking cigarettes and making jokes. Sam, who has been involved in multiple medical documentaries and been a part of more life-and-death situations than I could personally handle, is no stranger to the intensity of these situations and the dark humor that often accompanies them.
What almost never happens in real life is what makes for great drama on television: Panic. Out of control people. Constant yelling. Intense emotions.
It happens from time to time. It’s not the norm. It cannot be.
I looked around at some of the most busy and prolific writers and entrepreneurs I know and found that, indeed, the friends and mentors I consider the most productive and look up to for advice, guidance and support, are often also the most relaxed. They’re doing a fair bit of work, but they’re not doing it in the way of the headless chicken running around, which, let’s be honest, tends to be a bit of my specialty.
I mean, why have energy if it’s not going to be manic energy, amirite?
The truth is, I have two modes: I’m either in a manic high or a depressive low. (Sometimes, my body is one and my mind is the other and that’s when Sam finds me super fun to live with, but I digress).
Anyway, so as I was saying, I tend to fluctuate between two extremes and while I’ve learned over the years how to manage them both, it’s only recently that I’ve come to see that fast does not equal manic. That is, it’s not a requirement to be a complete moron and keep pushing the manic extremes when the positives of that are achievable without all of the nasty aftertaste.
If you, like me, have been told all your life to “slow down” but you have no desire to slow down, then you need to hear this:
You don’t need to slow down. Going fast doesn’t mean burning out necessarily. Going slow doesn’t mean you’re calm, necessarily. You can do incredible, amazing work, and you can do it fast, but you don’t have to be in a high energy, high intensity, high stress state to do it. From the outside looking in, someone might consider you completely zen and you might still be going at a million miles an hour.
That is the state to which I aspire. To always feel like emotions are completely calm and stable even as my mind is racing ahead to get things done. Perhaps a bit like what the best runners or athletes experience, albeit the opposite of it, where your body could be pushing its limits while your mind is in a deep meditative state, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it.
This month, I started trying to reach for 10k writing days again. It’s a big ambitious goal (at least for me) because it’s not a number I can hit with any kind of regularity yet, but I would like to be able to.
This time, though, I’m remembering the mantra I’ve been embracing for the last few years: I want it to be easy. I want it to be fun. I want to be relaxed on my way to achieving this goal. Zen, even.
I want to do it not with a high intensity push that leaves me burned out and broken on the floor but happy, accomplished, and able to do it again the next week.
I am no longer so easily impressed by people who get a lot done. I’m now more impressed by people who get a lot done but seem to still have their wits about them. That’s the next level for me and one that I’m hoping to get to this year.
How can I make it easy? How can I make it fun?
It begins by opening up the possibility of it being so.
Cheers,
Natasha