I hadn’t planned to write a multi-part post on my January blues, but once I got started, there was just too much to cram into one day. So, apologetic but hoping this might help someone else, I commence my three-part blues.
I enjoyed my week of vacation, but I woke on New Year’s Day feeling discouraged. I would guess plenty of people look back on their year with dissatisfaction, but I don’t recall ever having experienced the sensation in past Januaries. It’s nonsense to say I’ve wasted 2010 — and this blog makes it clear I didn’t — but when I woke up that morning, I felt like I had. I’m overweight*, I haven’t made much headway on the family history since September, the shop is nowhere, I’m only a novice painter, our house is a mess and nearly two years after moving in, I still haven’t hung up our pictures (they’re stacked along the baseboards). None of these things is so much by itself, but put all together, I’m afraid I’m drifting. Instead of a clear sparkling entity I feel like a watered-down puddle spreading thinner and thinner all the time. I know there’s no need for me to be great at everything right this second, but it’s just so hard not to feel incapable. I’ve been “full-time art-making” for two years now. At the end of this year I’ll turn 30. Shouldn’t I be some kind of expert at something by now? How long can one go on promise and potential, without having something to show for it?
The last quarter of 2010 was emotionally difficult, with Tisha’s death, several friends going through crises, and relatives having fights or getting into car accidents. There’s been a lot of misery and fear going around. It’s been a little like the time my sister’s friend Elena died: life as usual suddenly seems so much scarier and less safe. In the last couple of months there has been some new craziness every week, and then it gets hard to breathe easy because I keep waiting for another shoe to drop. It’s not like I go around in constant terror, but every now and then the knowledge just keeps breaking through: this could all end any second, who will be next?
I don’t know that these two states of mind — the feeling of inadequacy and the feeling of vital uncertainty — are feeding on each other directly, but they do wear me down. I get tired of being in my head. I thought the other night that maybe I’m bored of keeping company with myself, the way one gets tired of a friend with whom one spends too much time in too short a span. In my experience, the cure for this is empathy and compassion, but as everyone knows, when one has spent too much time with a friend, it becomes near-impossible to generate sympathetic feelings. Subtle tics become nearly unbearable aggravation, normal opinions and statements sound like the greatest inanity. You just want the other person to go away and leave you alone! You want to shout, “Get over it already! Pull yourself together!”
When I need to find kindness toward a friend, it often helps to do something generous for her. I should take my own advice and do something equally generous for myself. What would I do if I were my own best friend (which I guess I am)? If I were to look over my life and struggle through the eyes of a loving friend, where would I identify the greatest need? Where would I see a lack of care, or an obstacle that can be removed? My usual eyes see too much clutter and too many distractions; my friend’s eyes see a hunger to work and a thirst for gentle nurturing. As my own worst taskmaster, I say: you need to fix this and fix that! Get with it! But seeing myself through the eyes of friendship, I say: write and paint and take care of yourself, and let the rest go. It will come out all right.
Tomorrow: Goal-setting!
*As to being overweight: Shortly after Christmas, I paid a visit to the new Whole Foods near my parents’ house. They had a blood pressure test machine that could also check a bunch of other health measurements. From it I learned that I have 36% body fat, which I believe means more than one-third of me is fat. I don’t know what the normal range is because I didn’t even look at that part of the chart; 32% is considered obese. Bad news, no? I wrote last week that I complicated my exercise by trying to do too much, and would have been better off by just walking every day. Since the 31st, I have been doing just that, and I’m paying more attention to my food, too.
satsumabug.com | Lisa Hsia 
January is always a time of purging in our house. Staighten closets, clean out the pantry and garage, donate stuff that we no longer need or use. And then I feel free to get down to whatever business is at hand. It’s an emptying out that is so necessary to the creative process. Oh, and it’s also good exercise: bending, stretching, moving things around! I think you should put the painting and writing on the back burner for a while longer and get your outer space in order. For instance, those pictures you have had leaning on the baseboard for two years could be stored somewhere (garage? attic?) — unless, of course, you plan to hang them in the next week. You know you love the minamalist look of blank walls, right? And above all else, take good care of yourself: walk, yoga, good food, rest, read, and lots of tea breaks. Write and paint if you just can’t help yourself, but don’t set any goals for January. I know that goes against your grain, but you really need a breather. And, hey, how about going on an artist’s date. You haven’t done that lately and I think you need it!…….just a few empathtic suggestions from a friend who loves you even if you are not rich and famous at almost thirty:)
Sherry, you’re brilliant and always so encouraging. 🙂 I was thinking along the same lines, wondering if I could justify taking January “off” from the creative work so I could put the house in order. And I was also thinking about artist dates — I do need one (or several!), badly. There’s a spice shop that just opened across the bay in Marin… I should pay them a visit! I haven’t yet had any spiced cider this winter and that’s just inexcusable.
My biggest project this month is the Sketchbook Project which I started back in August; it needs to be postmarked mid-January so I’m scrambling to finish it, but after that (or more likely even before it’s finished), I’ll give this house the attention it needs! And myself, too!
When I think of you, I think of a person who is loving, compassionate, talented, creative, and grounded but also striving to achieve goals that some only dream about. I see in you, a person who speaks of her husband and family and friends with love, respect and admiration. I can see that you appreciate and enjoy a lot of what you have in life, and that respecting the lives of others who may have more or who may have less, is a priority for you. I think you are very brave and although I agree that you need to take more time to truly soothe your own soul (and I believe that you will find your way to it) the inclination to set goals for yourself is admirable. I recognize these qualities of yours as wonderful, and I have to admit that these are the kinds of things that are my true goals.
I believe that, more than mine, you deserve your own respect for your many achievements.
It was said to me (earlier this month by a psychologist) that if people only knew how hard I was on myself, they would realize how little they needed to say to me to get me to work on a problem. Perhaps we both need to be gentler, much gentler with ourselves. It helps me to remember that mostly I’ve been very gentle, understanding, and forgiving with my daughter. And because of that, she mostly is that way with others and seems to have no fear of telling me anything about her life. Still she pushes herself very hard, and I would like to have a “do-over” to help her be more accepting of herself. If there was a child in your care, how would you want them to “be” in this world? How would you mirror that for him or her? Would you be able to do that if you continued to be so hard on yourself? Just a little food for thought.
This is the first New Years’ that I’ve resisted the urge to make at least one resolution. But after reading your post, and seeing some of myself in it, I realize that for 2011 mine needs to be this: “I resolve to understand that taking care of myself isn’t the same as being lazy. If it was, it wouldn’t be so hard to do. Gentleness requires strength. I choose to be as gentle with myself, as I strive to be with others.”
Oh Ré, your comment touches me so much, and your concluding resolution (“I resolve to understand that taking care of myself isn’t the same as being lazy. If it was, it wouldn’t be so hard to do. Gentleness requires strength. I choose to be as gentle with myself, as I strive to be with others.”) just strikes a deep, deep chord in my soul. Thank you. Another dear friend wrote me today, “We were never meant to be perfect,” and I think your words and hers go beautifully together.
Your daughter is so blessed to have you for a mother! And I, to have you as a friend! Happy 2011!
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Lisa,
I’m glad I logged in and scurried over here. I’ve been dragging my feet about writing anything this year. I am happy that you and the other ladies are mostly re-assuring the over-achievers in us to take “January off” indeed. I just turned in a paper to the editor of another anthology; when I came home, I felt such elation, but I immediately checked myself. That was another unpaid gig! What was I doing? It’s the new year, it’s time to get paid! on and on…(you know the drill!)
“the feeling of inadequacy and the feeling of vital uncertainty”– lh
I love this phrase! It just says it all. I think they do feed each other. 😉
So I’m going to go try and follow sparksinshadow’s advice.
Hope to see you soon.
Missed ya!
Kuukua! Thank you so much for checking in on the blog lately. 🙂 It’s been a busy week with the sketchbook project and it’s been uplifting to find your comments and messages. Hope you’ve been finding more balance and momentum lately. 🙂
[…] that my sketchbook is done, I’m taking Sherry’s advice and spending the rest of January relaxing and cleaning the house. Paradoxically, this peaceful […]
[…] I wrote my January Blues series of posts, I received a wealth of fabulous advice from friends, speaking to my exact worries […]