Beginnings

Beginnings are so often looked at with trepidation. Whether that trepidation comes through with excitement, nervousness, joy, anxiety, or sometimes even sadness, we still view them with a measure of uncertainty at what the future may hold for us.

When I begin something new, I usually start with a fervor of excitement, which ultimately leads to procrastination and avoidance. How can I fail at something if I don’t truly begin? It’s certainly not possible to be bad at something, or to receive criticism over something that I have yet to start… right?

While avoidance and procrastination aren’t the same, avoidance being the activities we engage in to occupy ourselves while we avoid something (Yes, I used the word in its own definition), and procrastination being the by-product of those activities, they bring about some of the same feelings within us. Shame, guilt, stress, fear, overwhelm, and the list continues. Ultimately, for me, the avoidance becomes about self-preservation. My mind has convinced itself that if I cannot do something well the first time, then it’s best to just avoid it altogether.

How many of us have avoided things? Chores around the house, homework assignments, work tasks, difficult conversations, sharing our feelings with others. We avoid these things because there’s a negative emotional experience associated with doing them. I don’t feel joy when I have to fold my clothes (I have one drawer in my dresser which is where stockings and bathing suits go to be forgotten), I don’t feel excitement or pleasure in talking with my partner about the areas of our relationship that are painful or that need attention, and I don’t experience elation when I have to give difficult feedback to someone at work. Despite that, I push through and do it. I give the tough feedback (and hope to continue to get better in this), I have the hard conversations because my relationships deserve honesty and transparency, and I fold (most) of my laundry because it’s absolutely impossible to find one specific pair of black jeans in a piles of clothes, when you own 20 nearly identical pairs.

So here I am. I will be writing here once a month, maybe working to increase it to twice a month in the next year, and who knows, maybe once a week the year after that? I am beginning something new, with trepidation, because I deserve a chance to be good at this, even if I fail.

With gratitude,
Nani