Change Is Constant, Yet Things Remain The Same

Recently, it came to light that certain creators recycle their content. I couldn’t figure out why, until now, because I’m about to do the same thing.

It’s been 8 weeks since my surgeries. Has there been one day since then that I haven’t cried? This week, one of my doctors told me that after 6-7 weeks, he doesn’t think I’ll regain feeling. Another doctor told me it would take between 3-6 months. No one really knows what they’re talking about, do they? The art of science….

Trying to recover, both physically and mentally, has been draining. Thinking about all of the things I would do if/when, makes me feel bad that I’m not doing those things.

And then a memory popped up. I wrote this one year (and one day) ago, and while certain aspects of life have changed drastically, the sentiment remains.

More proof that while change is constant, things remain the same.

While trying to clear out anything old and outdated, I came across a journal entry that talked about changing not my situation, but my mindset.

It was dated Sept 2016. I had completely forgotten I wrote it until I found it yesterday.

I started doing gratitude and mindset work last year, and really tried to keep it going into 2020. The goal was to write something that made me grateful, every day, on my monthly calendar, so I could see it all at a glance. And for a few months, I did pretty well. Between January and February, I missed less than a handful of days. And then March hit, and the world flipped, and I stopped. Tomorrow is the last day of April and I haven’t even tried to think of anything to be grateful for this month.

Isn’t this proof that mindset matters? Mine is set to believe the worst, and that’s what comes true. Somewhere along the way, I started to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and imagined that everyone else was holding me to the same standards that I was. The truth is, most people probably don’t even think about me. I think they’re judging me, because I’m judging me.

I tell myself that if it’s not perfect, why bother? When I mess up, instead of saying I failed, I tell myself I’m a failure. I don’t know why I gravitate to the negative, but know it’s so far ingrained into me that it’s going to take serious work to fix it.

Even armed with that knowledge, I’m not sure what actions to take. I have trouble seeing things clearly because of the Monet Effect: I’m too close to see anything other than a mess. I need to step back to see the big picture.

So while I wait to figure out what to do, I take small, seemingly insignificant steps forward. I force myself to come up with one (just one!) thing to be grateful for. I forgive myself for missing some days (ok, the month). I write down what I accomplish, no matter how small, so I can see progress. I continue to share with people, to help hold myself accountable.

This is all I can do: my best. Some days my best will be better than other days. It may not be enough for people. But it needs to be enough for me.