Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Self-Compassion Series: Discipline vs Flexilibility


This past semester, I took a course in Positive Psychology. The lesson on self-compassion really struck home for me because I'm very self-critical and I realized just how little compassion I have for myself and my "failures". I know that I'm not alone, and that other writers also struggle to be more compassionate toward their short-comings. Through this series, I hope to share some tips and daily-reminders, and to document my own attempts at becoming more self-compassionate. 



DISCIPLINE vs FLEXIBILITY

I rolled out of bed at 7:15 AM today. That might be early for some and late for others. For me, it's quite early, considering that I'm on winter break and supposed to be catching up on sleep before the new semester starts. But this year, instead of lounging about, gaining weight, and watching random things, I set a goal to finish my chess WIP (read about here) before school starts up again on January 13th. Hence, the 7:15 alarms and subway rides, the trek to the Starbucks on campus in 30 degree weather (sometimes, I realize how sad my choice of writing nook is), and the trek back at 5PM.

It's good to be disciplined. Doing this every day for the last two weeks has only reminded me of why my dream job (someday!) is to be a full-time writer and author. And even though it can be hard at times, looking at the 3k I wrote (yes, I'm slow) is much more rewarding at the end of the day than checking to see how many episodes of anime I've binged on. Discipline has allowed me to get ever so close to the end of the WIP. It's in sight, and I'm so excited for the day I get to call this my 5th finished manuscript.

Today, however, I hit a wall. Not at first. When I rolled out of bed, I knew I was tired. But I figured I could just muscle through the sluggishness with a cup of coffee. I made the trek. I typed away at a new coffee shop (the Starbucks on campus is under renovations). It was cold. My eyes were dry. I felt hungry but also strangely not hungry. I continued to chug on in the name of discipline, and other things (I'd just bought a $2 black coffee in order to justify my hogging a seat for the next 6 or so hours; I'd only spent three hours here; if I moved now, I would ruin my writing mojo for the day).

I finished a chapter, and then my mind drew a blank.

At that point, I should have listened to what my body was trying to tell me--which was to go home, take a hot shower, eat something delicious, and spend some me-time. There was nothing unreasonable about doing any of those things. Instead, I plugged on. Or tried to.

It took thirty minutes of feeling miserable and not being productive at all for me listened to my body. I went home. I'm typing this now, from home, and after I post it, I'll be taking the hot shower I need. And despite feeling guilty at the coffee shop while I considered going home, I'm no longer guilty. I'm remembering the importance of tempering discipline with flexibility. Listen to your body. If you need a day off, take it. If you need a change of location, make the move. Many writers (and artists of all types) I know are so incredibly disciplined, which is good for finishing WIPs and sending books in by the deadlines, but if you remember to switch some things up, you'll avoid burning out in the long run.