Goin' Into Spring Like
Blanket Fort Cocoon, Disengage.
Friends, I haven’t done an ANNIEGRAM since February 19th.
That’s almost 5 weeks of inactivity. That’s basically a whole Lenten season where instead of giving up chocolate I gave up trying to write words.
I’m gonna be honest: as much as I love to gab about being gentle with yourself, and not being driven to produce things because of feelings of lack or unworthiness, and giving yourself permission to just frickin’ chill for cryin’ out loud, the fact that I’ve taken so long to do my weekly missive fills me with a deep sense of shame and foreboding.
I just know the people who have a paid subscription to THE ANNIEGRAM are going to be like “Why did I shell out dollah bills for this again?”
I feel a gut-fear that everyone who has ever thought I was clever, or smart, or good with words will be proven wrong.
I have a crippling anxiety that I’ll prove my own worry right—that I’m not good, that I don’t try hard enough, that I’ll never accomplish anything, that I’m lazy and unproductive and everyone is secretly judging me even worse than I’m judging myself.
I don’t really have a Kumbaya “Come-to-Jesus” moment here, to pep-talk myself up out of these feelings or explain why they’re ok or what I’m gonna do about them. I just wanted to tell you this. Because, honestly? I think most people have also felt this way. (If you haven’t, I salute your preposterous self-confidence).
Sometimes, there doesn’t have to be a reason for our expressions, for our words, for our movements and motivation. They can just be. We’re allowed to anxiety-scream into the void sometimes. Maybe when we do so, somehow the words echo back to us, sounding more false and empty than when we made them.
So if you’ve been feeling less-than-stellar, I feel you.
If you’re ready to take on the spring with a bounce in your step, that’s great.
And if you’re not, that’s fine, too.
I’m trying to find the line myself, meeting the new season. I’m trying to navigate the process of disengaging my blanket cocoons, while still understanding that this year might be different—my heart and soul might still need the warm, snug comfort around me of the winter days of hunkerdowndom.
Can we can find that snug comfort in wide-open spaces? Can we find that comfort in joy? Personally, I’m mostly finding that comfort in carbs and sleeping in and I’m totally cool with that.
But, who knows, spring could bring other things. Maybe we’ll discover new and different modes of feeling safe and sunny in this current reality.
Anyway, here’s a video of Gurdeep Phandur, dancing Bhangra on a frozen lake in Canada to celebrate his COVID vaccine. May it fill your heart with hope and joy, and a reminder that things can just be what they are and what you do can just be what you do, as an act of celebration or resistance or enjoyment or effort or ease or prayer or all of the above.
What a final sentence! Certainly relate to the produce-or-you're-nothing feeling. My publishing rate has slowed down this year too, partly because of chronic (and honestly maddening) health issues. Struggling with acceptance and this was very comforting to read.