by Judy Stone-Goldman on September 1, 2010
Reflecting on "What Now?" as I work at Starbucks
Kirstie Allie lost a lot of weight as a spokesperson for Jenny Craig. (Maybe you saw her commercials….) As she reports it, on the day she reached her goal weight and the camera crews left, she decided to eat pizza. Seventy pounds later, she rued that decision. This is classic after-the-test syndrome.
You strive to meet a goal, you rise to the challenge, you feel thrilled with your changes, and then immediately afterward you crash. You do a rapid 180, abandoning whatever practices led to your success and falling into a pit along with some version of the old you. After-the-test syndrome can be from fatigue, relief, self-reward, ignorance, denial, or simple inattention. It can be intentional or unintentional. In a modest dose, it might be restorative, but in unbounded form it hurls you backwards and undoes much of the good derived from whatever challenge you met.
Like many people, I have found that the unbounded form–the unabashedly wild abandonment of structure or commitment in favor of sloth and self-indulgence–comes easily, overstays its welcome, and messes up your home before leaving.
That is why I am here writing a post, one day after completing the Ultimate Blog Challenge.
I absolutely loved doing the Challenge. I loved the structure. I loved the knowledge that I had made a commitment. I loved the trust I built over the days–trust in myself to fulfill that commitment. I loved the writing and I loved the comments people left. I loved going to bed satisfied, without regret.
All that love is a hard act to follow. I feel the pressure of “What now?” What do I do today that will continue the energy of the Challenge?
The minute I ask those questions I begin to hear many more:
- What are my goals for my blog?
- What are my goals for me?
- What is the best way to make use of daily writing?
- What kind of structure will support me the way the Challenge supported me?
- What boundaries were inherent in the Challenge, and how do boundaries help me?
- Part of what the Challenge provided was a sense of community and support; how do I create those elements now?
For me, finding answers always means having lots of questions. First questions, then writing, then answers.
A good ending for this post eludes me. That seems appropriate enough. Today is not an ending. It is just another day, another day of writing, another day of whatever my personal challenge will be.
Questions for Reflection: How do you respond to meeting a goal or finishing a big challenge? Have you ever experienced the “after-the-test syndrome”? What goals do you have for yourself now? What questions might you ask yourself to make your goals clear to yourself?
Writing Prompts: “The last time I reached a big goal I ______” (then keep writing); “I tend to react to success by ______” (then keep writing); “My most immediate goal is to ______” (then keep writing); “I feel best supported in reaching my goals when ______” (then keep writing).
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by Judy Stone-Goldman on August 31, 2010
An exquisitve moment
I made it through childhood without learning how to swim. This was not for lack of trying. I had lessons and even mimicked swimming (moving my arms and legs as instructed), but I did more flailing than swimming. I felt anxious around the water and did not see myself as a swimmer.
When I went to college I enrolled in a beginning swimming class to fulfill my required semester of PE. My teacher was named Coach Boomer. He said, “We aren’t going to start with swimming. We are going to start with bouncing. This will teach you to breathe.”
Bouncing involving positioning myself vertically in deep water (holding on briefly to the side of the pool) and then pushing downward and exhaling forcefully into the water. The combination of pushing and exhaling made me drop like a stone to the bottom of the pool. I then pushed up with my legs, which propelled me to the surface, where I took a breathe. Push down and exhale; push up from the bottom, and inhale. Now do it again.
For the first few classes we did nothing but bounce. We bounced by the side of the pool, then we bounced in the middle of the pool, then we bounced across the pool (taking a step forward at the bottom before pushing up, so that we gradually crossed). Bounce and breathe.
Eventually we had lessons in arm and leg movements required for swimming the crawl. The details of those lessons are lost in my memory. What is not lost is the day we put everything together. Arms, legs, breathing out, breathing in.
There I was, gliding down the pool. I can still see myself, as if I am there, watching. This was not mimicry. This was not a collection of separate movements. This was swimming. I breathed while swimming the same way I breathed while bouncing, and I felt no fear–I knew the next breath was coming.
That moment is incomparable, that exquisite moment when learning comes together and the pieces become a whole. When you suddenly find yourself doing something that eluded you, something that other people could do but that was denied you. When you learn something and know you know it; when you learn something and know you own it.
On the first day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge I wrote about fear, ambivalence, and anxiety. I worried about having enough to say and being able to say it. I worried about writer’s block, travel, and a busy schedule.
Now it is Day 31–the last day–and I know I am different. Somewhere I stopped being afraid. I stopped wondering if I would be able to write each day’s post. I learned how to put the words down for that day, to accept the words that came to me and clear them out of my mind so I could move along to the next day’s work. I saw myself publishing post after post, and I thought, “This is what writing looks like. This is what writing feels like.”
One day, one post; now do it again.
A few months after my swimming class, I swam my first nonstop mile. I didn’t plan to do it, but I found myself swimming and I saw no reason to stop. As Coach Boomer always said, I could keep breathing for a long time and be safe.
As I complete the Blog Challenge–which has proven to be my class in commitment, discipline, and (oh yes) writing every day–I do not know what event comes next for me. I will start to find out tomorrow, when I put more words on the page. That much I know I can do, and for a writer, that is everything.
Questions for Reflection: What memories of learning stand out for you? If you are a writer, how does writing compare to other challenges you’ve faced? How do you relate to the imagery around breathing?
Writing Prompts: “I remember the moment of learning to ______” (then keep writing); “I overcame fear when I learned to ______” (then keep writing); “This post reminded me of the time when ______” (then keep writing); “If I focus on my breathing I notice ______” (then keep writing); “I am ready to make a commitment to ______” (then keep writing).
