Dear Sky,
As the new year approaches, I'm looking forward to an excuse to start new practices and habits with the rest of the world on Jan 1st, and see how long they stick. Like many living beings, I crave comfort. Like many artists, I am terrified of stagnating in my comfort zone. (Some needlepoint recently reminded me that "a comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing grows there," and I can't get it out of my head.)
This manifests in various parts of my life:
What do I do, Sky? Do I set a new years resolution to try something every day that scares me? Do I set myself more specific, achievable goals? Or maybe this is all misguided and I need to let go of the need for constant improvement, which might just be capitalism and social media telling me I'm not good enough. Do I need to radically accept myself and live in the present?
Beseechingly,
Haunted by Needlepoint
Dear Haunted by Needlepoint,
A friend once told me a story about watching her five-year-old daughter decide to carry stones across a rocky beach and pile them together. Lifting the large stones was hard for her, and she was getting tired and increasingly upset. After a while of this, my friend finally asked her daughter, “Why are you carrying all those rocks?” and her daughter looked at her, tears welling, and said “they’re so heavy!”
If I asked you, “Haunted, why are you carrying all those rocks?” I bet you’d be able to give me very good reasons. You only have this one life to make your art and love your people, and you don’t want to risk losing out on something great because you weren’t willing to put in a little more effort. You’re scared you’ll stop growing, and honestly, I hear you. It’s scary to watch people get comfortable and stop growing. Scarier when you notice how tempted you are to join them. Courage is a muscle that can atrophy like anything else.
But you are describing your lovely life like it’s a thing you’re doing wrong, and I wish you wouldn’t. Successfully balancing a career and an artist’s life with good friends you love? Holy shit, that’s so many rocks already! Please consider that it could absolutely be time to crack a cold soda and pop on your sunglasses for a long while. It would be good for you to sit down on the beach for a few hours and really see your pile of rocks. Let yourself look out across that endless infinity of water. Sink into where you are, what you’ve been given and what you’ve made. Eat a bag of potato chips, you know?
Part of me thinks you should make the resolution that scares you the most. What would it feel like to get still, quiet, a little bored? What would it feel like to do this year totally wrong? What if you set no new goals, no career ambitions, made no new friends? What if you really sank into your comfort and asked what it could teach you? What if you forgave yourself for enjoying it?
That’s one option, and maybe the one that demands the most growth. But the other option is to admit to yourself that you like the rocks because they’re heavy. I mean, you’re “looking forward to an excuse to start new practices and habits”! You get itchy sitting on the beach! Get back to your pile because you fricking love that pile, you feel better when you’re working on it, but stop feeling guilty that you also want to take a break sometimes. The rocks aren’t going anywhere, I promise.
You’re right to feel haunted. You’re going to die someday, however long you spend in the growth zone or the comfort zone, which is not exactly the fault of a memento mori needlepoint, but it’s still kind-of a jerk for pointing it out. You are never going to get around to everything you want out of life, whichever resolutions you make or don’t make. Grow anyway.