Giving Grace
There’s a strength, I’ve learned, in giving grace. I haven’t had it for most of my life, as one does not become an elite athlete by thinking, oh, I got disqualified. It’s okay! or Oh man, I don’t want to practice today. I’m going to tell my coach I won’t be there so I can rest instead. He’ll understand!
I would have been booted from the team faster than my dog diving for the electric blanket when he hears me click it on. Bye bye swimming, bye bye scholarship, bye bye school. I know there are many, many examples of this harsh all or nothing mentality; this is the one I know with the most familiarity. I grew up in a sport where “No Pain, No Gain” was the most common motto on the backs of Speedo brand t-shirts.
I could label the mentioned pain as the sound the alarm clock made at 4:45am. Or maybe it’s the groan I made when another pair of pants didn’t fit thanks to my muscular legs. There’s the obvious source of chronic overuse injuries every highly competitive swimmer faces during training that often lingers through the rest of their lives.
Perhaps, for you, the pain is found in the overwhelming task of rebuilding after a hurricane. Or maybe it’s the cry of your newborn as you adjust to parenthood. There’s chronic illnesses, mistakes of the past, whatever, that still hang around even years later. We judge ourselves with more vitriol than one might view the worst external bully in our lives. The self-hatred spewed within our minds is the most destructive force anyone can fight. How can we protect ourselves from something that’s happening within our defensive lines?
I wrote the below piece a few years ago during a sleepless night. I find that it still applies today especially when you mix in my anxiety issues. Dealing with negative thoughts is a human issue everyone knows.
Help me get rid of these screams that tear through my veins. Open mouths and jagged teeth rip through this skin I’ve built but this armor is aimed outward, defensive against other people. I have no protection when the attacks come from within. I have no warning when my heart rate skyrockets high enough to make me question my consciousness. Would my head hurt this much if it hadn’t already exploded? The only identification of this pain is the afterthought; the slow realization that maybe I’m already dead and this is the last millisecond before the world goes dark. This is the slow realization that I’ve already survived the worst (but have i?) so tomorrow’s pollution sunrise can’t be any worse than today’s (but will it?)
So much of what we believe about ourselves, even if it’s not true, will eventually become the truth. Henry Ford summed it up well: “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.” If you think you’re a terrible mother who is constantly failing her children- you’ll find all the examples of how you weren’t the perfect parent much easier than the memories if being exactly who your children needed. If you think you’re a kickass employee who is the best in your department- you’ll absorb that affirmation and work harder to become the best. Who we believe we are, we will become.
After finishing in the NCAA I’ve had to reassess how I set goals. Even though I graduated seven years ago I will still try to do (physical or writing or musical or drawing) things at a rate that isn’t sustainable. I wanted to write a minimum of 1,000 words every day for the #last90dayschallenge. This is on top of a 45-50 hour work week, 5-6 hours of exercising a week, a part-time job doing book reviews, having animals that need walks, a permanent roommate who I kinda like spending time with, friends who keep me sane, job searching after my layoff notice- I could go on but it gets honestly boring. The point is that the smallest part of my Last 90 Days Challenge goal was too harsh. In order to reach it I would have to give something up for three months. Three months! My dogs would forget who I am. PR wouldn’t have anyone to watch hockey with. I would reach my 1k a day goal but would lose more than I’d gain.
So I stopped. I gave up, as a harsher me told myself. Most of the word count calendar I taped into my journal is blank for the month of October. November looks pretty damn good save the last several days. I hit 17.5k words on the 11th and on the 12th, had such a nasty cold I was literally knocked onto my ass. My brain was more snot than grey matter. Why should I stress about reaching a word count if I was going to have to throw away the words during editing? My focus became on ensuring I didn’t get a sinus or upper respiratory infection. It was a better use of my energy and prevented me from the endless frustration I would have normally felt in the past. I constantly reminded myself to give grace every time I blew my nose so hard my ears popped. I started this article on the 18th and it’s made of the first words I’ve written since getting sick. I’m not stressed about reaching a certain word count tonight, and I’m certainly not going to keep going within NaNoWriMo as normal. Instead I’m going to take my six day health pause and add those days into December. I’ll still have written 50k within 30 days, excluding the days when I was a literal snot head in so much pain I nearly started crying.
I remember a coworker and dear friend (Hi Gemini!) who was talking at work one day about giving ourselves grace. Thankfully she was standing right in front of me within my field of vision so I could replay the memory as needed. I’d call her an angel for that but anyone who knows her knows she’s about as angelic as I am! Anyone else take advice better from a friend than from themselves? Gemini and I are extremely similar in our internal pressure for personal goals. I’ve talked to her as well as a couple other amazing women in my life about the importance of giving grace. All of us are athletic, high-reaching people who have struggled with grace our entire lives.
Maybe one day it won’t be an intentional internal conversation. Maybe one day I’ll find grace as frequent in my life as I do frustration or fear. Perhaps I’ll have to work on it my whole life.
And if so, you know what? That’s okay.
I hope you give yourself grace today. <3
