Under less-than-ideal conditions

They enjoy a little sunshine, but they don’t need it. (Image by Capri23auto)

I enjoy sailing. There’s nothing better than being out on the water on a sunny day, cruising along with the warm breeze on your face, removed from the cares of life on land, enjoying a new perspective.

However, sometimes it’s not like that at all. The wind might be bitterly cold. Or there’s so much fog you can’t see anything. Or the water’s so choppy you get unpleasantly damp. Or you get rope burns. Or the wind suddenly dies, and you’re forced to row home.

So the truth is, I only enjoy sailing under certain conditions. My husband’s love for sailing, on the other hand, is unconditional. Though he would never go out when it’s not safe to do so, he relishes the challenges of the wind and sea, and even accepts equipment failure with good grace. To him, every sailing trip is an opportunity for learning and improving; thus, the discomforts that make me want to go home are interesting and energizing for him.

In life, we might have a picture in our minds of how something’s going to be: a new job, a new relationship, a new baby, a new creative endeavor. Our culture tends to celebrate the beginnings of things (I think Seth Godin pointed that out somewhere), so it’s possible to undertake something without even realizing that we’ve only thought through the upside. We haven’t prepared for how we’ll deal with it when things go awry or we’re operating under less-than-ideal conditions. And without such preparation, we increase the likelihood of failure.

When I consider my life through this lens, I can see that any success I’ve had has been the result of my willingness to prevail regardless of the circumstances. That doesn’t mean I was always incredibly virtuous and long-suffering. Like my husband’s experience with sailing, I was just so passionate about what I was doing that the little discomforts and frustrations didn’t even bother me. I barely noticed the obstacles I faced along the way.

Other times, I’ve gotten bogged down in trying to create the perfect circumstances and thus found myself unable to progress. There was always some piece of equipment I had to get, or there were too many distractions, or I needed a snack. It was raining. It was too hot or too cold. The barriers mounted.

However, making the commitment to write every day has taught me that I don’t need everything to be just right in order to publish. I don’t need a comfortable desk and plenty of time. I don’t need a full stomach. I don’t even need a great idea. All I need is my commitment to follow through, and I will find a way.

Understanding this has caused me to realize that my past struggles to write had nothing to do with my situation—the struggles were primarily in my head. And, like it or not, that must be the case with any current struggles to find the time or energy to do something. If I want to make it happen, I can. I just have to be willing to do the thing even when it’s hard, uncomfortable, frustrating, unenticing, or boring—or when I’m tired, hungry, lonely, confused, sad, angry, or distracted.

The more I can anticipate problems, I will be more resilient. For instance, if I don’t want to have to write when I’m sick or on vacation, I have to have a backlog of articles that I can publish on those days. A sailor can have a little outboard motor for windless moments and a repair kit for things that go wrong. By engaging in these types of preparatory measures, we acknowledge that we’re not just depending on passion and chutzpah to get us through. In a way, we’ve made it easier on ourselves; in another sense, we’ve raised the stakes by removing all excuses. There’s no way out of doing this.

In a competition, the tougher things get, the fewer the people who can rise to the challenge. That means that the difficulties are a gift to the most committed and prepared participants. For those of us who are only trying to tick a box and get something done, the tough conditions are not as welcome. However, it is useful to recognize that these complications and frustrations place us at a crossroads. From there, we can acknowledge the choice we have to push through or not. We can see that pushing through will help us to get better. That may help us just enough to stick with our endeavor long enough to enjoy the results. And the next time, even if it’s harder, it will feel easier.