Ever feel like you’re bad at starting things? Ever find yourself procrastinating, even on the things you've told yourself you supposedly 'want' to do?
It happens to the best of us ;)
Here’s a slightly counterintuitive question:
Why should you not be bad at starting things?
What have you told yourself should be happening?
Let’s say you have the thought: I should be able to do this because it should be easy.
Why should it be easy?
Because it comes easily to other people.
Okay, so maybe starting things comes more readily to some people. (I promise you it doesn’t come easily to everyone!)
Why should you be like other people?
The harsh-joke-but-true answer: Because we’ve been told we should be like other people.
'Other people' is often conveniently equated in our head with ‘everyone.’ When, in fact, we know this isn’t true.Â
I’m fairly sure if you had a think about individuals in your life, you’d be able to think of one person who isn’t the best at getting started.
They may be the anomaly in your head, but they are ‘other people.’
The reason I’m labouring this point is that we must first accept the tendencies we don’t like about ourselves if we are in any way going to change them with care and compassion.Â
We can’t bully ourselves into change. (Well, we can; but I suspect maybe you don’t want that to be your first option!)
If we can accept we’re someone who doesn’t always find it easy to start something, we can start to find supportive ways to guide us; as opposed to trying to force ourselves with sheer willpower. (Which will work on occasion, but can often leave us feeling exhausted afterwards.)
Once we’re aware that starting isn’t easy, we can begin to enquire as to why.
And 'why' is often because we’re afraid of something. We’re afraid of starting, because it means we’re going to meet something we’re not sure we can handle.
(And when you put it like that, it’s not surprising there might be some resistance!)
Personally, I like to have an understanding of what I'm afraid of. It allows me to be more compassionate towards myself when I know that somethings scares me. (As opposed beating myself up because I think I’m lazy.)
It also allows me to put in place strategies and approaches to move through the fear and resistance. But in order to use the strategies, I first need to accept that I’m afraid and resisting.
What are you afraid of?
You might think there’s not much useful information to be gained in asking.
After all, our fears aren’t always rational. And we know we can’t make a logical argument to make them go away.
However, I’ve found it’s incredibly helpful to voice these fears out loud anyway.
Not because it gives us some clever argument to defeat the fear, but because it allows us to adopt another perspective in relation to the fear.
Here’s where I explain:
When we’re in the fear, we’re in the fear. We can’t get any perspective on it. It’s happening right now, and our brain is not going to give us any extra resources for creative problem solving. It just wants us to get the heck out of there!
However, when we’re able to take a step back, and grant ourselves a ‘third perspective’ — the one of someone watching us walk up to the fear — we can begin to see what’s happening. We can begin to see at what point the fear starts and the drama unfolds, and the person — us — gets stuck in the fear and perhaps attempts to remove themselves from it.
Being able to have the perspective of the person who witnesses us as we go up to the fear is useful — because then we can begin to see openings: opportunities where we can intervene or put something in place to guide us around or even through the fear that doesn’t feel like having to white-knuckle it or hold on for dear life.
To be clear, I'm not saying we avoid the fear altogether. But the way I think of resistance and run-of-the-mill (i.e. not life-threatening danger) fear is a bit like this: If I have something to do and I don't want to do it, it’s like I'm coming up against a giant mass. A blob of some sort. In blob is the 'unknown;’ enough to make me think twice about going inside.
Sometimes, we decide to delve straight in. These are often those situations where we metaphorically roll up our sleeves, take a deep breath, and go for it.Â
This gets results. But it also takes a lot of energy. And, I don't know about you, but I don't always have enough energy reserves to go diving and leaping into everything that scares me.
This is where it can be helpful to be aware of the fear — the blob — and gently steer myself round the edges, so I don't get fully stuck in the mud (to mix my metaphors) or get lost and exhausted and give up.
An easy example for me is writing my newsletters. If I think too much about all the work I’m going to have to do as one thing in itself, I get stuck. My brain doesn’t like the thought of 'all that work at once' and it starts slowing down. I lose motivation.
Whereas, if I keep focusing on the next point I want to make, and the next sentence I need to write, I can usually find my way and keep going.Â
If you’ve ever been for a run, or been in a race, and found yourself struggling to get to the end — but you focus on a point in the distance that you know (i.e. 'strongly feel') you can get to… it’s a bit like that.
Every time I notice my brain drifting towards the idea that I’ve got a lot of work to do, I gently guide myself back to the sentence I want to write right now. I focus on the next sentence — the path that I’m on; in front of me.
It isn’t always easy. Sometimes it comes naturally, and other times I have to consciously guide myself back over and over again. But because I’m practised, it takes seconds.Â
Over the space of a newsletter, I will start many times. So this practice of gently steering myself around and through the massive blob (the idea I have to do it all at once) pays dividends.
Some people call this eating the elephant one bite at a time. I find this image rather daunting, because I don't know what part of the elephant I would begin with!
Having said that, I can see that the image of an amorphous blob might also be unappetising for some people — so I would always encourage you to find your own metaphors :)
Of course, the idea that I have to write this newsletter all at once is an illusion. And I suppose, this means my blob is also an illusion. It's a dark grey blob of nothingness. And once I have made me way through or around, and gotten to the other side, I can see this more clearly. The blob, like a fog, dissipates. And I have managed to 'conquer my fear' — without really needing to tackle it much at all.
Some might call this cowardice; some might call it common sense or efficient. Other people might call it non-effort.
Either way, it's a way. Not the way. And that approach has always served me when it comes to starting.Â
Much love,
Kathryn
PS. If you’re ready to start working together… Come find me on my coaching page. Or set up a call and let’s chat.