Out beyond "Killing it" and "I suck" there is a field...

a guest post and an experiment to find the in-between field

My job is coaching writers. One of my writing clients is

Marika Páez Wiesen

- a wise-hearted whip-smart woman and amazing writer I am so lucky to support.

In addition to being a writer, Marika Páez Wiesen is also a time management and parenting coach who helps women craft lives that feel easier and more satisfying. 

I learn so much from her reading her newsletter…

The Bad News About Delight

…that’s why I asked Marika to write a guest post for us. I hope you enjoy her voice and her take on life as much as I do!

I did something good last week.

I’ve been working hard on an essay. Writing it, rewriting it, slicing myself open, bleeding vulnerably on the page to get to the heart of the thing for months. (Not to mention, moaning about it continuously to my very patient and masterful writing coach, Jen Louden, Lord bless her.)

Then, last week I finally sent it off to an editor of a well-known outlet, and he wrote back that he liked it and wants to publish it.

I’m incredibly excited. But for now, I’m holding off on telling myself I’ve done a “good job.” For the sake of science.

See, my whole life, I thought that telling myself “good job” when I accomplished something good, and “bad job” when I wasn’t doing things “right” or “good enough” is what would push me to improve and perform at my best.

But ultimately, all it’s done is made me feel worse. Judging everything and everyone—Oh that’s good! Ugh! That’s terrible!—all day long, 24/7 (mostly myself, mostly bad) has been an exhausting way to live.

Turns out, the words “good” and “bad” are undefined and slippery. Good compared to what? Bad exactly how?

And rather than spurring me on towards self-improvement, these judgments are just as often paralyzing as catalyzing: Now that I’m good, I’d better not do anything different and do it all exactly the same way next time, or I’ll be bad! Or, now that I’m bad, there’s probably no use trying anything different, because nothing will really change. I’m just bad…

Don’t get me wrong. Celebrating a goal like getting an essay published is important. But if I’m not careful, I can easily turn “celebration” into An Ultimate Pronouncement of My Goodness—I have achieved this thing, and therefore am now and  forevermore deemed “worthy”! Which only reinforces the same looping paradigm: Be good, get a treat. Be bad, get punished.

And let’s be honest, my judgy brain can always find a reason to criticize, even in the midst of a huge “triumph.” This essay has been accepted to be published in an outlet that has readership in the millions. Yet, I can still read it and hear an inner voice whispering, Well… I probably could have done better. Then a bunch more voices pile on, Yeah, and the kitchen pantry is a disaster, and you still haven’t taken the kids for their yearly check-up, and you haven’t booked a new client in weeks…”

These voices won’t stop unless I do something to stop them.

So this month, instead of trying to convince myself that I’m good every time I catch myself telling myself I’m bad (which, by the way, rarely works), I decided to unhook from the whole paradigm. I put myself on hiatus from using the words “good” and “bad” to describe myself, my work, or other people and their work. It’s an experiment to see what happens when I stop using “good” or “bad” to label actions, feelings, or outcomes and only allow myself to use the word HUMAN.

As in, “How human of me to forget to put the trash cans out at the curb,” or “How human of my boss to ask passive aggressive questions in that staff meeting.”

[Footnote: Hat-tip for this experiment idea to Kara Lowentheil, who runs the brilliant podcast Unf*ck Your Brain. She suggests exploring what happens when we replace negative self-judgment with the phrase, “How human of me.”]

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a bus. There just didn’t seem to be enough coffee in the world to jolt me out of my fog and into my work, though I was facing a number of deadlines and a to-do list longer than my arm. I spent hours chasing rabbits down holes, catching myself, sighing, then finding myself chasing new rabbits down different holes just a few minutes later.

I wanted to tell myself how bad I was behaving, to somehow scold myself into some productivity. What’s wrong with you? You only get a few hours that are yours to get things done each day, and you’re wasting your time away like this?

But instead, I took a deep breath and said, “I seem to be having a very human morning.” Which made me laugh. Because I really was! What human hasn’t had a day where they just couldn’t get going, with interruptions and sluggishness and false starts and distractions until suddenly it’s noon and they’ve no idea where the time has gone?

This “how human” experiment also works well when external circumstances (a.k.a. other people) aren’t performing the way we think they should. Earlier this month I took my daughter on a short Spring Break girls’ trip. When we got to the gate for our flight, the agents insisted they needed to check our carry-on bags. I asked if we’d be able to collect them at the gate when we landed and they replied no, we’d need to go to baggage claim.

I sighed and grumbled, not even try to hide my annoyance as we inched down the jetway to get onto the plane. We weren’t even close to the last people to board the airplane! Why wasn’t there space for more bags?! Then, when we finally shuffled all the way to our seats near the back of the plane, my head nearly exploded as I saw not just one, but four empty overhead bins in the back of the plane! Those gate agents had it completely wrong! I was pissed, ruminating about the inconvenience of waiting endlessly at baggage claim when we could be happily on our way to our destination.

My 10-year-old checked my face anxiously as we sat down and buckled in. I knew she was worried our trip was being ruined. I tried reassuring her. “Look, I just need to be mad about this for a few more minutes,” I said. “Then I’ll be fine, and we’ll enjoy our trip. Okay?” I gave her hand a quick squeeze.

But it was hard to shake my frustration as I watched the other passengers file in and sit down, baggage-less, while the overhead bins remained empty.

Then I remembered my experiment. How could I reframe this as a human moment? I’m having a very human experience right now, I thought to myself. Those gate agents did a very human job today.

I felt my shoulders release a half an inch, my anger dissolving a bit. I replayed the events in my mind, recasting and revising each role—the “incompetent airline employees” became “the human employees making a mistake but trying to do the right thing,” and the “self-righteous, bitchy, entitled customer” (me) became “the stressed mom wanting a smooth travel day with no surprises.” I saw how each of us was just doing the best we could in that moment in time. Humans human-ing.

Swapping good/bad judgments for an acknowledgment of our humanness can split us wide open. It can help us connect the dots of our multi-faceted selves. Instead of shunning and resisting all of our “bad” or shameful parts, we can draw lines between our heroic, brilliant parts, and our rude, self-absorbed parts. They’re all part of what ultimately shapes this beautiful, very human thing we call life.

Of course, this experiment also works powerfully when one wants to judge something as “good.” I worked very hard on my essay. I worked hard in the way a writer works hard—testing and tugging each word, tightening each phrase, casting about for the perfect transitions and metaphors. I also worked hard in the way humans work hard—digging past superficial first thoughts to uncover the truth beneath, scraping the depths of my ability to be vulnerable.

The essay isn’t perfect, but I did a very human job. And that’s a beautiful thing to celebrate.

***

Thank you Marika so much for this beautiful reminder it’s never too late to reframe our experiences and change our lives. You are always helping me reset!

Please subscribe right here to her wonderful newsletter.

Thank you!

And if you need a reset with your non-fiction book — you started the darn thing, or keep trying to start it, and now nothing is happening, I’d love to help you.

I specialize in getting non-fiction writers unstuck. I’ve coached NYT’s bestselling writers and people who don’t think of themselves as writers but have an idea that will not leave them alone.

I’m convening a small group coaching experience for nonfiction authors who want to get their books back on track and make a clear plan to finish and share their book.

We start May 14th. You can read the details here and feel free to ask me any questions you like — email jen@jenniferlouden.com.