I have repeatedly discovered that it is important for me not to surpass my capacity for responsibility. Over the years, this capacity has grown, but the results of exceeding it have not changed.This year has been about me accepting this truth about myself as well. My previous efforts above my capacity for responsibility have led me into the following cycle: first I would feel a little guilty about missing a day, then this guilt (perhaps coupled with other guilts) would lead to me being depressed. At this point, I would avoid the project altogether, and this then led to me feeling really guilty, guilty to the point of self-disgust, and then I'd even become depressed about the fact I am the person who is depressed so much -- my self-talk including how because I so prone to depression I'm neither the type of person others want to be around, nor am I the type that can finish anything. My depression depresses me and makes me feel so guilty, that there is no room to get back to the goal.
Here are three activities this has been true of in the past.
1) gardening
For spiritual reasons, I believe in a garden. And practically, I could use some vegetables from time to time. This has lead to repeatedly think I need a vegetable garden. And while I can say I have always been able to get something out of every garden I have planted, in my 35th year of life, I realized a trying to garden when it is past my capacity for responsibility has been a source of the guilt-depression-guilt cycle. It starts in the summer, as the need to water intensifies. I will get my sleep cycle messed up, so I'll be waking up later in the day to an Oklahoma already 100 degrees and humid, so I'll feel trapped inside the house. I will miss a day of watering and weeding, then a few days. I will watch things die. And I will start to feel bad.
I am relieved that I have given myself permission to let go this year. I gave my peach trees a proper pruning early in the season, and I have already foraged out some clover, chickweed, lamb's quarters dandelion, and volunteer arugula, but I have no plans to plant, and will take this year to observe, and make areas look nice. Basically, I am looking for situations where I can bank work when I feel up to it, like pruning or moving around hard structures, but not worry about needing to do things every day. One good thing about Oklahoma heat is that it can often make the grass go dormant some time in the summer, right around the time I have no motivation to do yard work.
2) writing
When I took my first sabbatical, two years ago, I did so thinking I was going to "be" a writer. At the time, it was a game plan people were willing to listen to. And, to my credit, I followed Paul Graham's proscription to "always produce." I think the advice is sound, I just don't think I was ready to follow it properly, because I was still in my time of grief. It wasn't writer's block that got me, it was writer's misery, and writer's anxiety. It was a time of great social isolation, so much so that I was happy to go back to teaching for a year. Writing was ruined for me for a while, in really deeply ingrained ways. And that is what I had to work against both during my last stint as a teacher, and when this second sabbatical started. My response was to turn to other types of art, and make myself as comfortable as possible when writing. And at some point, in fact within the last few weeks (4 months into the second sabbatical), I finally broke the curse. And here we are with blog posts again.
3) exercise
This one is all about me stopping myself because of guilt. In my early twenties, exercise was something to do just for fun, but it didn't guide whether or not I was going to have a good day. But some time in my late twenties, it became the case that exercise was a same-day performance enhancing drug. I could work longer, and feel better. Truly, I don't have time not to exercise. So how can it be I have missed so many days over the years? Well, in no small part it is the guilt caused by asking myself that very question. First, guilt, then depression, and then, well you know my drill . . . .
Setting low, even laughably low expectations has helped. During the four months I was overcoming my aversion to writing, my quota was only 200 words a day, and now my exercise requirements are low while I try to build the habit.
