I hate to say it, but I am getting old.
No, I do not have one foot in the grave or anything, but as I edge ever so slightly toward 40, my body is certainly feeling the still-small effects of aging. In my mind, I am still that 15-year-old high school student who carries her tropical-flower L.L. Bean backpack, watches “The Empire Strikes Back” on VHS on repeat, and obsesses over my latest AP-style-laced copy in my high-school newspaper.
At the very least, I should still fit in that pencil skirt from over a decade ago, wear the rose-colored glasses during the sheen of a new career, and mask my authentic self underneath the fierceness of Leia Organa. Right?
It’s true that I romanticize certain parts of myself. My perfectionism has a chokehold on who I “should” be when it once told me who I “could” be. The “shoulds” and “coulds” not only wreak havoc on my self-esteem but trickle into other parts of my life, like when I decided to trim the bushes and weed the garden while cleaning up for my son’s birthday party. I didn’t stretch, and now, my body is screaming at me. What have you done?
Not only should I stretch and reinvigorate a daily yoga routine, but I also should cut myself some slack. Still, I analyze the current me against the me of yesteryear.
Where is the motivation I once had?
Why can’t I be like that version?
Why can’t I achieve XYZ with ease?
I used to avoid listening to John Mayer’s “Stop This Train.” It reminded me that I would get older, as well as everyone around me, but I listened to it a few times in August. I certainly would like to “stop this train. I want to get off and go home again.”
Or maybe it’s a bit like the scene in “The Office” where Michael Scott wants to run away on the train.
Regardless, the disconnections and dissociations between the parts of my Self have caused a motivation problem. Again, I beg the question, “Where is the motivation I once had?”
I believe burnout, toxicity, value alignment, and overall life experiences have culminated in this pressing issue. Sometimes, I look at my CV, and it feels like another person accomplished all of it when it’s actually me. I’ve lost people and pets. I’ve had career highs and lows. I’ve been part of exceptional teams but also very toxicly-driven ones. In reality, I have changed, but I am still those versions I mentioned. I carry them with me, like badges of honor or dust swept under the rug. But, they are me. And I am them.
Few things are more frustrating to a high achiever than being unable to self-start to reach a new goal or objective. I used to push through, but I often freeze in my own inaction. Then, my old enemies, anxiety and depression, coalesce for an extended stay in my brain. It’s an everyday battle that I get tired of waging. Anyone with anxiety and depression can identify with this, I’m sure. It’s hard to get out of bed and go through everyday motions, much less accomplish groundbreaking dreams. (I can, however, complete video games during times like these, so that is something.)
Still, though, I get up. I keep going. I’ll be honest, though. If I didn’t have my husband and son, I would be much more prone to giving in to the inaction. They keep me honest, sure, but I also know that I want to be a better version of myself for them (and me, obviously).
What else helps me take action even when I don’t feel motivated?
Completing manageable steps. You cannot do everything in one day (although I have tried). I tend to focus on 1-5 major things per day. If I complete them, then I will try to do a couple more to-do list items or just, well, rest.
Fake it until you make it. I know, I know. I hate that mantra, too. Mostly. It does work, though. Go through the motions your motivated self would do, too. Get out of bed, have an established routine, exercise, eat well, etc. It’s hard to change values and beliefs, especially when you’re run down. Taking action can help you adjust your schemas and feel motivated and proud of yourself in the long run.
Rain. I am literally the opposite of most people. I feel more motivated when it’s cloudy, rainy, or snowy. I know I sound like a vampire, but the sun does not motivate me. It makes me feel even more tired.
I love to travel, so being able to take in a new location helps me take action. I love being at home, but sometimes, absence does make the heart grow fonder.
I may avoid this, but writing helps immensely. I can navigate how I feel, whether it’s writing in my physical paper journal, releasing a new podcast episode, or writing an essay here.
Know that I am not perfect. I will have good and bad days. I’ll experience liminal spaces, fear, grief, all of it. Practicing self-compassion goes a long way. (I have to remind myself of this as an always recovering perfectionist.)
I am working on realizing that my previous selves are still me. There are no “better” or “worse” versions. They are all me. That knowledge can help motivate me and push me past rollercoaster years like this one. Truthfully, I know I have changed because of my mental health work. I won’t work myself to the bone anymore without a break. I have healthier habits, but I also have ones I still need to fine-tune. Motivation means something different to me now as my world, experience, and age all expand to meet where I am in the present moment. Older, yes, but hopefully, a bit wiser.
