Still Alive But Barely Breathing
When I was younger I used to be a part of my school’s swim team. We would often meet after school to train, which would involve swimming countless laps across the pool. I have never been the most competitive person, but I have always loved pushing myself and excelling. Sometimes after swimming countless laps our coach would have us tread water in the deep end. My arms would burn and my legs would be exhausted. I would close my eyes and try to focus on my breath to tune out the pain I was feeling in my body. When my coach would blow her whistle for us to stop, the sense of relief would wash over me and I would allow myself to submerge into the water and sink. Knowing that when I emerge from the water, the training was over and I could go home and rest.
Lately, life has felt like treading after an extended training session. I am bobbing my head to stop myself from swallowing water. “What is the point of this? I should give up,” I hear myself think. “No girl, you better move those arms and keep afloat. You’ve come too far to drown,” I retort.
As someone who is very goal-oriented and ambitious, I am always looking forward to the next thing. So much so that I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t striving towards something. It’s either the promotion, or recognition, or pursuing new creative avenues, or serving in church and then leading, or running a half marathon or losing weight. There is always something, which means I’m almost perpetually treading water.
It’s almost as though I took the phrase “work in progress” to an extreme. Just the other day I was looking into organizational tools like Trello and Basecamp to figure out if they were better for optimizing my life (read: project managing) than Notion. Now I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with this, but the incessant need to improve myself is an indication of perfection rearing its head in my life.
And I realized that somewhere along the way, I have confused contentment with complacency. Contentment is defined as a quiet happiness and satisfaction, while complacency is an uncritical satisfaction with oneself or one’s achievements.
A quiet happiness. For a while, this has seemed to me something reserved for people who live in bucolic settings and live slow lives. I always imagine that if I lived in the Alps and made my own cheeses, I could be content. I think that was Olivia Pope’s dream with Fitz, to live somewhere secluded in Vermont and make jam. There is a perceived stillness that I assume comes from that kind of life. A life free from so many of the pressures of urban living, working in corporate, or engaging so intimately with capitalism. However, so much of how I and our culture views success is through the lens of what can be seen.
If you haven't already picked up on it, this year hasn't gone according to plan and a major part of my anxiety is what can I do over the next few months to make it all worth it? What can I show for this year? And the truth is, the real work that I have done within myself, the vulnerability and courage I have built over the past 8 months is perhaps what I should be most proud of, but it isn't tangible. There is no medal or promotion from doing this work, and sometimes I really just want to be acknowledged. Because if other people recognize this work it validates it, it’s not just me.
The world tells us to acquire more things - degrees, accolades, money, and experiences to be happier. It is all fleeting and superficial. Satisfaction cannot possibly come from these things, but instead it must be an inward disposition. Satisfaction is saying I am enough. Satisfaction is knowing your value is inherent. Satisfaction is knowing what is for you, will never miss you. Satisfaction is clapping for yourself. Satisfaction is emerging out of the water after treading and resting.
We all want to be significant. We want to be seen. We want to matter. But then we turn around and run in the direction of what we perceive will give us relevance and not necessarily what our heart is after, and I am not solely talking about professional endeavors. We want to stay-in more and have intimate evenings with a few friends, but it's easier to just go to the club with a large group than admit to your close ones that you are lonely. We have a sleep deficit, but convince ourselves that there is just so much to do and jeopardize our sleep every night.
You see, treading water is meant to make us stronger and more resilient. It is not where we should always be, and some of us if we are being honest have been treading for years.
What is the worst case scenario if you just allowed yourself to be? What if you stopped giving a f-? What is the worst that could come out of that? Really, I want you to answer that for yourself.
Complacency is actually living beneath your calling and settling for morsels of the life you are called to live. So lean into whatever it is you are so afraid of. Contentment is often about simplicity, so maybe it’s not what more can you do but what can you do less of.
Three Good Things
If you’re tired and sleep doesn’t seem to be making things any better, it’s important to try and figure out what kind of rest you need. In a blogpost from Arrae, they share the 7 types of rest that we need. Right now, I am trying to prioritize physical rest which looks like aiming for 6 hours of sleep every night. Adults should aim to get 7-9 hours each night, but I’m being realistic with myself and also allowing for more gradual change.
This week’s newsletter title is an ode to Breakeven by the Script. This was one of my favorite songs when I was younger. Although the song is about a breakup, I think it encapsulates the depth of loss we can experience when things don’t go how we planned. It speaks to the loneliness that we often feel when we experience despair and the world around us is seemingly silent to our pain. Now more than ever, I’m seeing the value of speaking up about how I’m really feeling. It doesn’t always make me feel better nor does it ever really change the circumstance, but being seen empowers me.
Every Sunday, Win With Black Women has a Zoom call to engage grassroots efforts to elect Vice President Harris as our 47th President. It’s very uplifting and a beautiful way to end the week. Join me next Sunday at 8:30pm ET.
A Question To Consider
“If you had to write a letter to your younger self, preparing them for this year, what would you say?” — Letters from a Stranger by Nneka J