Dear Mom,

Last week I wrote to you about being stuck in a rut. I have to say I’m feeling a lot better. Maybe it was the comments I got from various people who understood the feeling. Maybe it was the extremely smart person who told me when they go through this, they allow themself to sit in the feeling, knowing it will pass. Or maybe it was the very act of writing to you that allowed me to crawl out of the funk.

No matter the reason, I seem to have succeeded in overcoming my setback.

I will say, there was one thing I did differently last week that I believe could have contributed to my getting unstuck.

The morning that I posted the last letter, I did something I hadn’t done in a while. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I did it. I dropped the kids off at school and immediately drove to my favorite hiking spot. I walked up to the Griffith Observatory, which was way harder than I remembered, and then I ran down the trail after. I turned on a podcast about happiness and stuck my phone in my pocket. Turned off the world and allowed myself to be in nature and be in my body. It was entirely invigorating.

The rest of the day I felt, well, the same. Probably no significant change. But the next morning, after a night of great sleep, I woke up feeling very sore but also like something had shifted in me. I felt happy. I felt hopeful. I felt ready. Ready to get back to it. I even began my day with my coffee and stretch routine I had adopted over the summer and stopped doing when I went through my weekslong bout of migraines.

The more I think about it, the more I’m realizing that what I needed was a restart. But, in an entirely new gear. I think my routine had gotten somewhat stale. I had gotten bored. I needed to restart and revamp at the same time. And part of the new routine that is working for me now is adaptability. It’s flexibility. I am starting to wonder if perhaps I can do best when I allow myself to improvise. 

I’m finding that it is very easy to become apathetic and dispassionate about the routine moments in life. When something works for me, I hold onto it so tightly that it becomes worn out and loses its power. My stretch series and coffee brewing in the morning was getting so monotonous that I wasn’t looking forward to it any longer. My workout routine was getting so mindless it was becoming boring. Even my writing started to feel, well, empty. Like a spark was missing. 

Was I being too structured? Too rigid? Not allowing myself to feel the thrill of the unknown?

Perhaps what I’ve been needing is to make space in my day-to-day life for improvisation.

In an effort to adapt, this week I made a big decision that still makes my heart flutter a bit when I think about it. I decided, in the middle of the night in between bathroom breaks, that I should rewrite half of my novel. Again. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head and by the morning I had made up my mind. As soon as I came home from dropping the kids off, I got to work, deleting 40,000 words and starting in an entirely new direction. It was so strange. My chest felt lighter.  No. Not lighter, rather more open. I felt like I made space. Possibly for more creativity? I think I was holding back on my past drafts. I was, for some reason, avoiding fully fleshing out my main character. And I’m not entirely sure why. I suspect it was easier to have her see the world through the eyes of other characters than to write her actual story. When I made the decision to give her full control of her story, I felt a sense of release. And relief. Like I can finally pour my soul into this book. I can put all of the real human emotions I know so well into my character and allow her to feel everything. To allow her to live. And now I can live a little through her.

It makes me wonder; have I been walking through my life seeing the world through the eyes of others? I know that was an issue I had growing up. My adolescent and young adult years were filled with moments of me being a shell of myself so I could be the person others wanted or needed me to be. It took me so many years to break free from that hold, but what if I’m still chained to that idea? What if I’m not fully free yet? I think releasing my character is allowing me to do the same for myself. That her journey to become the main character of her own story is allowing me to become the main character of mine. 

It’s so interesting to me how intrinsically linked my creative projects are to my personal life. Like taking a leap in my writing is giving me the permission to take a leap in my own world. 

What if I stopped holding back in all aspects of my life? What if I leap into my parenting, my personal health and fitness journey, my client’s health and fitness journeys, my writing to you, my novel writing, my friendships, my marriage, my family. What if I stop stopping myself short? What if I no longer allow myself to repeatedly get stuck in a cycle of the same over and over? What if I discover that I do have the ability to be adaptable? And not only the ability, but the desire? 

What if the joy is actually in the chaos? The very act of improvising and going with the flow could be the answer. Maybe I’m feeling stuck because I’m bored of the same thing on repeat. Maybe I’m no longer finding joy in the mundane. I’m no longer excited about the schedule.

This is what I’ve found out about myself recently. I tend to hold onto routines for a very long time. I think it makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something. That I’m honing a skill. I’m successful. I have my shit together because I get up early every day and go through the motions; proof that I’m a fully functioning adult. I believe that I act this way because it’s safe. There is a comfort in routine for me. I know where I stand, and I know what my day will look like. I don’t have to think too hard about anything. A schedule is simple and effective.

But I’m also discovering that I’m not living up to my fullest potential this way. Schedules and routines tend to keep me in a box. I’m living within strict parameters that don’t give me the wiggle room to improvise when things go wrong. And things often go wrong. Changed plans. Cancelled clients. Unexpected phone calls. When things shift, my day can be completely thrown off. When my day is thrown off over and over it is challenging for me to get anything done. Without the packed schedule, I don’t know where to start.

Is this why I was so stuck and so unenthused? Too many things changed, and I couldn’t get a hold of all my tasks without the order to them. 

Am I only doing these tasks throughout my days because they’re on my to-do list and not out of desire or pleasure? It makes me feel like a bit of a zombie. Going through the motions as my days become full of chores. But these moments shouldn’t feel like a burden. I should be feeling joy from my workout, my cooking, my picking up and dropping off the kids. I should feel excitement and enthusiasm around the majority of my day’s moments. But I’m not. So… what do I do about it?

I’m thinking I need to focus more of my attention on letting go. On going with the flow and leaping into my life. Every aspect of my life. Not only the obvious moments. I need to find joy in the most mundane of tasks. Find my passion somehow in the chores I don’t necessarily enjoy. I have the tools. I have the ability to listen to music or podcasts or books while I clean. I can catch up with friends or family while I walk. I can catch up with parents while I drop the kids off and pick them up from school. I can connect while I work. I can learn while I’m creative. I can open myself up to more possibilities by allowing myself the freedom to adapt. I don’t have to be so rigid.

I can even postpone this letter to you if it feels overwhelming to get it edited in time. Or, I can shift my expectations and allow myself to post a shorter letter with a more simple topic. I can drop Scotland off at her dive practice and come back later. I can order take out. I can ask for help. I can give myself permission to not finish the book I don’t enjoy reading. I can give myself permission to rewrite half my book and I can most definitely give myself permission to adapt. To be flexible. To change my mind. 

I can allow myself to change the scenery. Or even rewrite the scene entirely.

So, I will give it a try. I will rewrite my novel while I revise my life. Let’s see if it works.

I love you, Mom.

Love,

Rachel