“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.” —Georgia O’Keefe
This quote circulates this time of year, probably shared most among those of us who were told we were “so sensitive” when we were kids (and they didn’t mean it in a good way). Now we’re full grown, deeply self-aware adults and we’re still learning how to be people who get to just be people without feeling like we have to perform to be loved.
We’re jumping right in today, y’all!
Since I talked about The List That Could Save Your Fall on the podcast this week, I’ve had over 2K people (and still counting!) sign up for the list template. We sure love a good list, especially when it offers the potential to save something.
When you download it (which you can do for free right here) you’ll see that it is one page and very simple. And you might think to yourself: How could this ding-a-ling list save my fall?
For me, the answer to whether or not this is a helpful framework lies in why I needed it in the first place. The template for this one emerged not because I’m necessarily a systems person (I’m not until I am) but because I needed the simplest path to help myself move through summer when I felt all the way stuck.1
Perhaps you can relate to that feeling of knowing what you want, what needs doing, what your desire is for a day or a week or a season but you just don’t know where to begin to help make it happen. It’s especially difficult when the thing you want is not concrete. Because “waiting for myself to be myself again” is a beautiful line, but what does that actually look like? On a Tuesday? Even the absence of something may need planning for (I don’t want to feel rushed, frazzled, or extreme pressure, for example.) But how to help make that happen?
The good news was that I had set an intention for this to be a summer of healing, a long pause after a winter and spring of a rushed pace, a book launch, a string of unexpected news, and some confusing health concerns for a family member.
At the risk of making it sound as though I believe we can put “healing” on a to-do list (I don’t) I also think there are postures we can adopt and even activities we can engage (or avoid) to help the healing process along.
But I didn’t know where to start. It felt like I was standing in the middle of the room, all the options and roadblocks swirling around my head, daring me to choose one.
Here I was, standing at the threshold of a summer that I wanted to feel generative for me and for my family, but without a clear idea as to what that would practically look like beyond taking some time off certain parts of my work.
Historically when I feel overwhelmed with where to start, my default is to start with shame. This should be easier! Why do you always get stuck here? You are a real grown up with actual responsibilities and bills and a whole brain. Why can’t you figure out where to begin?!
As it turns out, shame is never a good first step.
In my stuck place, I called my sister to talk it out. And as we talked, we found company in our stuck-ness, both wanting to be able to rest on purpose but not fully knowing what that looked like. So we decided to make a list of all the things we hoped it would look like, things like: read one more fiction book, get coffee with my sister-in-law, go to Thursday night jazz with John at our favorite restaurant.
In the presence of a loving witness, shame fails to flourish.
Having company moved me from feeling stuck to doing my next right thing. My sister and I made our own lists of all the things we wanted to experience, start, finish, or even just think about this summer. And doing it together moved me from mostly stuck to slightly motivated. Shame wilts with a witness.
This simple system worked so well for me this summer for a few reasons:
It didn’t feel like a list of tasks but a list of desire. This helped it feel more fun.
This was not a “bucket list” of grand, dream, or final things we wanted to do. This helped it to feel more human.
I didn’t put specific due dates to anything on my list. Only “before summer is over.” This helped it feel more spacious.
I shared my list with my sister. This was an invitation into community.
It was actionable. Instead of “figure out why the back office isn’t working for me yet” I put “declutter the bookshelf in the back office.” (This may sound like work to you but for me, decluttering a book shelf is fun!)
There is no wrong way to make a list that could save your fall, but here are some of the filters I used while making mine:
What’s the over-arching vibe I’m looking to cultivate? (For this list, mine was healing and rest.)
What activities, conversations, events, or projects would help to foster the vibe you’re looking for?
Are there any projects you would like to start this fall? (Even if you don’t finish)
What are some things you hope to reasonably finish? (Pay special attention to things you’ve already started and abandoned half-way through)
Is there a decision you want to have made by the end of the season?
What books would you love to read?
Is there a new show you’ve been meaning to try?
Who would you like to spend time with? What kind of time?
Do you notice themes or categories emerging? (A key to this list feeling life-giving for me was to have broad categories and no due dates)
As I answered these questions for myself, three categories emerged: Home, Wellness, and Work. As I made my final-but-fluid list for summer, I was aware of a light-heartedness to it all.
This is a list of things I wanted to be true by the end of summer. Now that the summer season has passed, I can tell you I didn’t do, start, or experience everything on my summer list. But guess what? I’m either moving those things to my fall list or deciding not to do them at all for now. I’m the boss and so are you!
Mostly I was aware all over again of the power and simplicity of just doing the next right thing. Making a list of a lot of potential “next right things” was deeply helpful for me. Having a witness was also helpful.
And in all of this, from making the list to asking for help to engaging some of the things I love, I began to realize that the whole process was a prayer, a recognition that I need help to remember what it looks like to be myself, a reminder that I don’t have to do everything alone. And neither do you. Amen.
Once again, here’s a template for you to make your own list if it’s helpful.
As always, I’m glad you’re here.
epf
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If you want to learn from the true blue Systems Queen, Kendra Adachi is your girl. Her new book, The Plan, releases in October and you will need to get a copy, Amen.
"Shame wilts with a witness." Beautiful. Loved these reflections, Emily.
I had hoped (and planned!) for rest this summer, and for a variety of reasons, that didn't happen. Some key plans didn't pan out. We had some unhappy/unwelcome surprises as well. Summer 2024 can be ALLLLLLLL the way over, thank you very much.
But now, after several disappointments, I find it harder to believe that even simple things I'm hoping or planning are possible. I don't want to be hope-shy, but this is where I find myself at times.
Thanks for the reminder that seasons change and we can name our desires. We can be the boss of that process, even when we don't get to boss the outcomes.