For most of my life, adaptability has been one of my greatest strengths. To the point where it’s a weakness. At least, that’s what I’m realizing now.
I have approached most situations with the attitude that I can get over them. I can deal with it. If something doesn’t go my way, eh! that’s life. Live with it, move on. I don’t (often) get excited or bothered. I expect the worst of people, expect that the situation is going to be stacked against me, and when I’m right, I’m right, and I don’t really bother thinking about it or getting upset.
As a result of that attitude, I tend to pull into my shell. I stop trying to accomplish things. Lately, I’ve felt strong Resistance to DOing anything. I think about doing things, but I don’t actually DO them. When it comes time, I don’t want to. It’s easier to watch TV. Or follow text updates online for a sporting match. Something where someone external gives me the vicarious sense of progress.
And leaves me feeling empty at the end.
The thing is, I have so many ideas of stuff I want to do, or think it would be cool to do. I just don’t have the courage to follow through with them on my own. If someone else asks me to do something, I’m on it. I love to feel useful. (Though, I’m a lot more invested and proactive if it’s something I agree is worth doing.)
But I can’t seem to find that motivation for myself. If I’m the only one who wants something done, you know, it probably isn’t that important. And I can just live with it not happening.
So, why did I bother thinking that I want to become an author? Is this worth taking a stand about? I guarandamntee that nobody is going to come asking me for my first book. Maybe by the time I get to a third, I’ll have some fans. But until then, forget about external motivation.
So, AuthorDad, is this worth taking a stand? Is it worth putting in the work? I like the idea of a creative career. (Even if I am simultaneously terrified by it!) I think I like the idea of nobody telling me I have to do something that I don’t want to do–like more onerous reporting at the day job. (I do like being told to do something that I enjoy doing. Then I get to feel useful and have fun doing it! Although realistically, with my personality, I end up getting stressed about whether or not I can meet expectations.) Man. I am all kinds of messed up.
So. Writing. Don’t think about it as a career. Not even a side hustle, yet. Or showing my kids that you can be creative even while going through life. All of those motivations put too much pressure on it. They send me running to Resistance. To video games, books, and TV, where I can’t get hurt.
If I’m going to make this work. I need to write just for me. I need to enjoy writing, not just having written. I need to think of it as my refuge. My thing. My stand. I. AM. A. WRITER. It must be what I do.