This great line from Annie Hartnett’s latest novel, The Road to Tender Hearts, asserts that there are three things a person needs to be happy. “Something to do; someone to love; and something to look forward to.” When I read it, I thought, yes that’s so true. But then I perseverated on the “something to do” part because on that day I was feeling sorry for myself. I had nothing to do.

I’m generally a happy, “hey, it’s a great day” kind of person, but sometimes when I find myself with nothing to do, a cloud of discontent hangs over me. The day after that sad day, with a list of goals in my hand, my positive attitude returned. I realized I always have something to do—what I don’t always have is something I want to do.

But that’s life, right? There are things we all have to do that we don’t want to do. Things like dealing with death and taxes, or a job we don’t love but keep because we need the paycheck. For me, it’s also getting my blood drawn, any form of exercise, putting away clean laundry, figuring out what to make for dinner, and trying to trim my dog’s beard. The scary thing bout this whole topic is that I don’t even know what I want to do.

Wild Wild West

In my last post, I wrote about a decision that would affect my writing career. It was a decision about whether to work with a small publisher to publish my work. I agonized over it for two reasons. First, it’s the Wild West out there in the publishing world. It’s hard to know who to trust and I was having a hard time deciding if the contract offered was the right one for me. My second reason is probably more important. I wasn’t sure I wanted the change in my life I knew would come with the decision. Promoting a book is not for the faint of heart. When I first started writing in 2012, I had a clear vision of selling my book, sharing my story, and talking to people about the inspiration that motivated me to write. Now, so many years later, I’m not sure that is still my dream.

I’m very comfortable with my decision to turn down that publishing offer. It wasn’t the right one for me. But the “not sure part” of that experience was simply fear_­. Fear of failure, fear of succeeding, I was a gigantic anxiety filled ball of fear of the unknown. I can’t stop thinking there must be a reason I dusted off that book and submitted it, again. It felt like something I had to do. So, I’ve decided that whether I choose to “feel the fear and do it anyway” will depend on the next offer I receive. I have to trust my instincts and go from there.

Still Learning

In the meantime, while my essay coaching work is extremely rewarding it’s seasonal. Findings things I want to do remains a challenge. What pulled me out of that sad, “poor me, I have nothing to do” state of mind shouldn’t have surprised me.

When my kids talk to me about their challenges, I often suggest they talk to a friend, classmate, teammate—anyone who might be dealing with a similar challenge. I usually have a 50/50 shot at their response being, “Mom, how could that possibly help?” or “Yeah, I should ask so and so…” But 100% of the time, when they speak to someone, they feel better. They’re learning that sharing experiences validates our emotions and reframes challenges into ones we can manage. Why haven’t I?

I rarely tell anyone about my days of sadness. So, the morning after my recent bout of “blah-ness”, when a friend shared similar feelings with me, I smiled. I immediatley felt understood and less weighed down by the insecurities that I know keep me from finding what I want to do.

Giving my children advice I forget to follow reminds me of Richard Bach’s Illusions where he wrote, “We teach best what we most need to learn.” I guess I’m still learning. I’m fortunate to have someone to love, something to look forward to, and I will have to continue searching for things I want to do.

Thanks, Annie Hartnett, this is one great line.

If you’d like to read more about The Road to Tender Hearts click here.

If you’d like to read about me, click here.