Reliving my schooling. Rebooting my life.
It’s the moving boxes that have never gotten unpacked. It’s the cracked windshield that you keep meaning to replace. It’s the blog post that doesn’t get written…and gets harder to start with each passing day.
It’s inertia, “the resistance of any physical object to a change in its state of motion or rest.” And that physical object, oftentimes, is me.
The worst part about inertia, in my experience, is that the more time that passes without change, the guiltier I feel. The inertia gets even stronger, and I know that when I finally just do the thing that I’m putting off, the little surge of relief and pride I get for finally crossing it off my list will be overshadowed by deep self-loathing for not just doing it when I was supposed to. Now who would sign up for that?
It’s helpful when there are outside forces that push inert objects into motion. In our last apartment, Darren and I couldn’t let dirty dishes sit in the sink very long because we had a total of three spoons and three bowls to our names (you can guess that it was a bachelor pad before I moved in). If we didn’t wash them, we’d have to resort to pouring our morning milk and cereal directly into our mouths. Even worse, there are cockroaches in the South that invade even the cleanest of homes, and it’s unwise to tempt fate.
Loved ones and coworkers are also good for nudging, or shoving, you through the inertia. Reminders and deadlines help. So does the exasperation of a partner. I’ve gotten so fed up with a couple of Darren’s old boxes that I’ve just dumped their contents on the living room floor. He has to help me sort through them if he wants to rescue items like his beloved Daredevil action figure from the giveaway pile. (Darren just said to me, “We did save that, right?” Yep, you did!)
For me, the thing that builds the most inertia is this very project, Reschool Yourself. It’s been nearly six months since my last post, and it’s been two and a half years since I finished the RSY experience. The book has been knocking around the inside of my head since then. To gear up for writing it, I’ve read other project-based memoirs like Julie and Julia for inspiration; I’ve gone to creative nonfiction workshops; I’ve written a proposal and bits and pieces of narrative; I’ve made contact with a few great literary agents.
So now it’s time to stop preparing to write the thing and just do it already. I hope it’s published. But even if it’s not, it will free up a lot of bandwidth that’s currently tied up in thinking and fretting and feeling guilty about it. Best of all, once the book is done, whether the big publishing houses love it or not, I can share it with people who have said that they could really use it. One told me, “This book needs to be in the world,” which was just the kind of loving nudge that I needed.
So here’s to blowing the dust off old projects and breathing new life into them. With each breath comes another step forward.
At the age of 28, I went back to kindergarten. I needed to get my life back on track, and I wanted to start over from the very beginning.
Over several months, I repeated my education, from kindergarten to college. I spent the months that followed learning how to grow up. I'm still learning.
This site is a place for me to tell my story of education, and for you to tell yours: our experiences past and present, and our vision for how it could look in the future.
— Melia Dicker
dustin
June 1st, 2011 at 8:48 am
Nice post, Melia. You know me, physics always gets me riled up.
What you say has really struck a chord with me; I too feel those feelings of angst when I have let something sit for too long, be it a task, chore, blog post, taxes (yikes)…
However, for as overbearing as those feelings become, I try not to lose sight of where I am despite not being how I would like to be sometimes. I hope you don’t either, nor do I think you do. So, I go with the proverbial flow. They will get done, things that is; I trust that because I trust myself. The how and when are details–yes, the devil lives within them–but the prominence of the why is what keeps me from fretting, too much.
Margaret
June 1st, 2011 at 9:02 am
Spot on with the guilt and self-loathing! One approach I’ve taken is to write up (we love lists) things that need to get done, think through the baby steps needed to get one of the tasks done, and when I’m annoyed that my computer is slow, or watching a pot of water boil, do one of those steps. It can even be to look up an address of a place you need to go to get a curtain rod! I just finally finished a shower curtain ‘project’ (it’s complicated to explain) after a few months of baby steps, done when my mind wasn’t on the thing I was doing.
As for dishes, I’ve conditioned myself to like the look of them drying on the counter next to the window. Sometimes, self-delusion is helpful. Not in the case of true heart’s desires, though. Writing, Sparking, these things succeed when enough people believe in them. I believe RSY has a place in the world, and on the bookshelf!
Melia
June 1st, 2011 at 9:14 am
Haha, Dustin, I know that physics really gets your blood pumping! It helps to know that my awesome friends also go through periods of procrastination and inertia. Yeah…next year I will stop getting a six-month extension for my taxes! And you’re right that sometimes you just need to go with the flow, and then things happen effortlessly. I remembered just this morning that I’d written a post about that (http://www.reschoolyourself.com/giving-up-the-struggle).
Margaret, that’s a good idea - knocking little things off the To Do list while waiting for water to boil — or being on hold. Congrats on finishing your shower curtain project, whatever it may be! Celebrating those victories is important, too, even when we think they “should” have been done long ago. And we should stop “shoulding”! Do keep a place on your bookshelf open for me.
The Wedding Week
June 6th, 2011 at 8:41 am
[...] been a while. This week I’ve been injecting new life into projects that have been overcome by inertia, so it’s only fitting that I update this bliggity blog, too. After all, Darren and I got [...]