Tired of Being Tired of

Why does it take being sick of our own bullshit to make changes?

Recently, I hit a point where I was tired of feeling envious of my friends' creative successes. Tired of waking up and feeling unmotivated. Tired of spiraling, tired of feeling like my wheels are spinning, tired of not knowing where to go and therefore not going.

Tired of being tired of.

I'm fascinated by human patterns and processes, in mapping out how things inevitably always go. I've noticed that for any change, it usually takes awhile to make any real difference. Here's what I've observed and have pieced together as a map:

1. Restlessness. There starts to be an awareness of our own unhappiness or dissatisfaction, but we've no idea what is wrong or how to fix it or even what we want instead. There is just a general sense that something is off.

2. Curiosity. We begin to look inward and outward, searching for what exactly is off. This can take a longgg time to fully figure out what is off and where we want to go. This is probably even a few steps, but I haven't quite hashed it out yet.

3. Awareness. We reach a stage where the curtain is pulled back, and we know what is causing dissatisfaction, and eventually we are aware of where we want to go. This might be an exact destination, but it also might be just a general direction. It might even be just the sense that it's time to start moving, even if we don't know the direction or destination.

4. Observance. This is a key stage! We often think once we know what we want we can actualize it, but I've learned over time that we are slow-to-learn beings and can't just jump into change immediately. Usually it takes a period of time of observing the patterns we want to change. It's vital that we approach this stage with non-judgement: a purely objective, impersonal, gracious perspective. It takes many tries to successfully initiate change, but before we begin trying, it's helpful to know how we currently behave or think, because it's nearly impossible to change a pattern without understanding the ruts you are in and why and where you default.

5. Trial and error. Once you know the triggers, defaults, and nuances of your pattern, it's time to experiment. I find that it's helpful to treat this phase as a test run instead of a hard goal. For instance, I've been trying to wake up earlier, with my alarm. Instead of telling myself I have to get up at the designated time or else I've failed, I let myself experiment with different approaches for waking up earlier. After trying and "failing" for a while (like, months, maybe even a few years), I've found that putting my alarm in a different room, waking up at a time even earlier than I planned, and getting out the door for a run is working better than setting several alarms or trying micro changes. Because I haven't shamed myself in the process, I've been able to keep trying, letting only being "sick and tired of being sick and tired" fuel my desire to start my days differently.

6. Practice. Only once we find what works for us can we begin to incorporate goals and longterm plans.

I think a huge thing to remember with beginning new habits is that initially, creating a new habit is the new habit. Yes, waking up at 6:30 and going for a run is the attempted habit. But underneath that is the goal of beginning a new habit. It's better at first to make your goal about starting a new habit rather than to achieve the habit itself consistently and perfectly.

I don't know why it takes being tired of being tired of to fuel us, but more often than not that's how it goes. And since it's usually this space of being absolutely over our own bullshit that pushes us to move, it's imperative to proactively avoid shaming ourselves. We're human, it's natural to fall into patterns that we outgrow. It's who we are: we find routines and then we outgrow them, and when we find them no longer serving us, we fumble looking for the next routine to serve us. We grow like vines that need taller trellises. There is no shame in building a taller trellis, no shame in outgrowing the old one. It's natural, and it's beautiful if we let it be.