I didn’t want to write today’s newsletter
But I did the damned thing anyway.
This essay might suck.
That’s not because I’m about to tackle anything controversial. It’s because there’s no way that everything I write will connect with every reader. More so, it’s because I’m not writing this essay from a particularly confident or clear-headed place.
I didn’t want to write today’s newsletter. I debated excuses for why I couldn’t send out an issue this week. I sat at my desk, feeling increasingly frustrated as I stared at a blank Google Doc, all of my half-starts hidden in the history of document changes.
Finally, I wrote this line as a joke: “This essay might suck.”
The rest of the words flowed from there.
We can’t always be great. We can’t even be simply good 100% of the time. Plenty of days will find us uninspired, unfocused, and unproductive. We’ll have trouble connecting with our best selves and question whether that ideal version of us even exists. We’ll feel off our game, and we’ll feel shameful about that.
At least, that’s how I’ve been feeling lately. I’ve been in a bit of a creative rut, questioning my abilities as a writer and thinker, and wondering why I even bother sending out this newsletter each week. Didn’t I just take some time off? Why am I already struggling to find the best thing to write about? What’s wrong with me?
It’s a self-defeating cycle. When I find myself in a rut like this one, I tend to believe the following:
When things feel hard, that’s a sign to stop trying.
Progress should be linear.
I can’t attempt anything until I’m certain I’ll succeed.
Not making an effort is the only way to avoid pain and embarrassment.
Those thoughts, while untrue, are so damn tempting. They’re essentially an invitation to not do anything. If I don’t try, I don’t fail. Right?
Wrong. While it’s true that putting yourself out there opens the possibility of rejection and ridicule, the act of trying and falling short can also be wonderfully instructive. Even the worst failures offer valuable personal insight and perspective. Of course, there’s also the chance that you could try something and not fail. That’s pretty rad, too!
We’ve all heard the advice to ask ourselves, “What’s the worst that could happen?” By letting worst-case scenarios play out, our fears become manageable—or that’s the hope.
But what would happen if we didn’t do anything? What does our zero-action scenario look like?
I hadn’t ever given much thought to the consequences of doing nothing, but according to personal trainer Jillian Michaels, inaction is the worst and scariest option. When Michaels spoke about that concept on a recent episode of the “Don’t Keep Your Day Job” podcast, I was riveted.
“When you do nothing, you inevitably create the worst-case scenario,” she explained. “When you do nothing, you bring about the thing you fear the most—without question, without fail—every time.” Michaels added that imagining a do-nothing scenario ultimately leads you to a place where the only viable choice is (you guessed it) to do something.
Deciding on that something is entirely up to you, and it’s for no one but you to judge. We all have dreams that are nagging at us and countless reasons not to chase them. Listening to those reasons is the actual failure. Deciding not to follow creative, professional, or personal pursuits doesn’t simply stifle us individually; it also prevents the opportunity to connect with and inspire others. Inaction inhibits progress in our communities, workplaces, and relationships.
But how do you get started when you find yourself in a rut—creative or otherwise? It can be incredibly hard to take action when you’re feeling down, plagued with thoughts primed to keep you from moving forward.
There’s loads of advice out there about eschewing excuses and perfectionism, and just doing the damned thing. Earlier this week, Smarter Living’s Tim Herrera wrote, “By agonizing over tiny improvements in our work—if they even are improvements—we prevent ourselves from achieving the actual goal of, you know, doing the work.” It’s wisdom we’ve heard countless times, and yet, it’s something our sweet dumb brains need to be reminded of again and again.
Giving yourself permission to suck is a liberating thing to do. Lately, whenever I’m feeling resistant to do something, I remind myself that whatever I do next might be not good. It helps to take the pressure off. If I try something and suck at it, I still tried. I still put myself out there.
Chances are, I will have gained some wisdom and perspective, and maybe even a funny story. (Ask me about my early widowhood dating attempts some time!)
It’d be wonderful if every single newsletter I sent out was a little better than the last one, but that won’t happen. (And, oof, can you imagine how stressful it would be if we always leveled up with every new creative thing we produced?!) I do hope that My Sweet Dumb Brain averages more hits than misses, but the only way I can even aim for that goal is by writing in the first place.
Some of you may think this week’s essay isn’t as good as, say, when I wrote about falling in love or finding purpose in life. You might not connect to this topic in the same way that you related to my thoughts on freelancing. A couple of you may even decide — eek! — that this is the week to unsubscribe.
Still, I tried. I put my ideas into the universe. My words may even have reached someone when they needed them most. And even if this essay does suck, it’s better than the worst-case scenario: Doing nothing at all.
xoxo,
KHG
Good job, brain
I'm reading: I’m ~in between~ books, and taking it as an opportunity to reset some habits. (I have a library card I never use, and want to fix that!) In the meantime, I was fascinated by this article about the ties we lose when we tie the knot.
I’m inspired by: This very earnest request from a young disabled woman, and the very lovely responses she received.
I'm aiming to: Keep being mediocre the rest of this week! Kidding, kind of. It feels good to take the pressure off.
Additional resources
Average is awesome! This TEDx talk is about mediocrity, but I thought it was excellent.
Here’s that interview with Jillian Michaels (the do-nothing section starts around the 19-minute mark).
This profile of children’s literature author Amy Krouse Rosenthal, who taught kids “It’s OK to be OK”, was surprisingly bittersweet. It made me tear up.
For your sweet dumb brain
What’s something that you’ve been wanting to do but avoiding? Whether it’s attempting a new recipe, signing up for a dance class, or starting that novel that’s been bouncing around in your brain for years now, this is a good opportunity to get honest with yourself about why you’re not taking steps to get to your goal.
Why don’t we take some steps together?
Identify one thing that you’ve been wanting to do.
Think about the best-case scenario. What would achieving your goal look and feel like? Hold onto that image for a bit.
Think about the worst-case scenario. What would it feel like if you attempted your goal, but fell short? What would realistically happen?
And finally, think about a scenario where you did nothing to achieve your goal. Let it play out over time. What would happen then?
This newsletter is written by Katie Hawkins-Gaar. It’s edited by Rebecca Coates, who is unquestionably wonderful at her job. Any not-great newsletters are my bad, not hers! Photo by JK Sloan on Unsplash.