Those of you who have been following this blog for a while may remember my post about not making New Years resolutions last year. While I haven’t really made any resolutions for this year, except to continue my (un-)resolution from last year of being kinder to myself, I have spent the past few months thinking a lot about food, and sugar in particular. I read Gary Taubes’ Why We Get Fat a few months ago, and it’s really changed my thinking about nutrition. I’m going on vacation next week, and plan to be as indulgent as I like because, hey, it’s vacation! But when I get back, I’m thinking about making some significant changes to my diet, though not for the reasons you might expect.
You might think from the title of this post that I’m channeling my inner toddler. But the truth is that I’m actually quite proud of myself for finally tapping into my ability to say “no.” Three times today I put my foot down and refused to take on unnecessary responsibilities and projects that I had not agreed to.
I’m not really what you would call a “pleaser,” but I do suffer from symptoms of the chronic overachiever. Add to that my fear of being seen as weak or lazy, and you have a terrible recipe for overcommitment. I hate having to say no, even when I feel overwhelmed or don’t really want to take on a task or responsibility, because doing something I dislike seems easier than appearing incapable. (How many times have I burst into tears because I realized I had a flare or an acute illness coming on? Too many times to count. It always feels like I’m letting myself and everyone else down.)
No more. My time and energy are too precious to waste. I have a dissertation to finish and I don’t care how highly regarded I am by my friends and colleagues, but I am not taking on any additional ambivalence-producing* editing, web design, teaching or administrative duties until this damn thing is written.
*But if something comes up that I feel unqualified enthusiasm about, I reserve the right to consider it. 😉
I mentioned a few months ago about how I was procrastinating by reading a book about procrastination. In a similar realm of the ironic, I’ve been avoiding some of my own academic research by reading a book on… wait for it… academic research on willpower. Despite this so-called procrastination, I am coming to the conclusion that I have a great deal of willpower, and that my problem is not so much the will to begin (or complete) tasks, but rather the basic reserves of energy necessary to power that “will” into action. Will requires spoons. Which tells me that I need to work on being more realistic about how much I can actually accomplish in a given day or week or month, since the spoons come and go. That and I need to continue to hone my prioritizing skills. None of this sounds particularly thrilling, but I have to admit I feel a small sense of accomplishment at how smoothly my little world manages to run, despite my sense that life keeps throwing obstacles in my way. (I sometimes imagine an autoimmune troll gleefully throwing nails onto the road in front of my car.)
The book I’ve been reading is Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength. My interest was originally piqued when I read this interview between The Happiness Project‘s Gretchen Rubin and Willpower co-author John Tierney. I’m only about halfway through the book, but I’m fascinated by the contemporary anecdotes, historical figures, and psychological research that fill the chapters. One of the phenomena that Tierney and his co-author Roy F. Baumeister (a leading researcher on self-control) focus on in the early chapters is the concept that willpower is a finite resource that becomes depleted as we use it. Though they divide willpower into four broad categories (control of thoughts, control of emotions, impulse control, and performance control), they note that we “use the same stock of willpower for all manner of tasks.” For people with chronic pain, research suggests that our stock of willpower is consistently depleted by all the energy we expend trying to ignore our pain. No wonder we’re consistently short on both energy and “will.”
My pain levels have increased again in the past week and I’m not sure why. Likely it’s a combination of med changes, the weather, the absurdly high pollen count, and some added work and school stress. As my pain goes up, my productivity (and mental sharpness) goes way down. I’ve had a few insights about willpower and chronic illness while reading Baumeister and Tierney’s book, but I think I’ll hold off on talking about them until I finish it. In the meantime, let’s hope I can get a handle on this latest round of pain.
I hope everyone else is having a good week, despite this unseasonably warm weather all over the US. For my readers from elsewhere (Australia, NZ, England, Europe…): has your weather been strange? Or are we just in the midst of a North American heat wave?
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom” —Victor Frankl
I’m not sure what has changed in the past few days, but I feel like I’ve gone from a mental space of worry to one of relative peacefulness and acceptance. It doesn’t feel like anything has changed inside of me; in fact, I feel just as lousy as I did last week—the usual MTX gripes and joint pain along with a bonus infection. But something has definitely shifted.
Apparently my new years resolution should have been “clean out and reorganize the catch-all closet.”
Why? Because that’s what I’ve been doing for the last three days. And as soon as I muster the strength (or convince a friend to help) to cart the remainders off to the thrift store, the project will be complete.
I love a well-organized space. It makes me feel like a weight has lifted off of me. No more downing in “stuff,” literally or figuratively.
I was going to blather on about hoarding and anxiety, but I’m sure someone else has already said whatever I was going to say. Probably Martha Beck, in one of her insightful columns for the Oprah magazine. So instead, check out this amazing (hoarding-related) art project: Barbie Trashes Her Dreamhouse (flickr set from the artist here).