Getting My Mind in Hand When Procrastination Hits
I’m an inconsistent writer. I wish it was different, and I could hold to a schedule every day, week, month, year. But the truth is, I can’t, and there’s no use beating myself up over it, as that will only make me less consistent and more prone to procrastination.
Maybe the self-castigation shakes my sense of worthiness. Maybe it’s just another excuse for procrastinating, and letting my mind have the sameness and false stability it craves. Yet, by honoring the schedule I’ve set, isn’t that maintaining sameness? Am I not doing the same thing every week? Shouldn’t my brain love how I stick to the plan, never faltering, never deviating?
Understanding the mind and how it tries to control you is a course of study I once sought to pursue. In hindsight, I doubt I’d have learned much about the hows, whys and wherefores of the human mind which would prove useful to me now. To be honest, I have enough to do trying to understand my own mind without worrying about what everyone else’s is doing.
Getting Back into My Heart
Sure, we all have certain things in common. Physically, all human brains contain the same 
components unless they were damaged or malformed at birth, or by accident or disease. Everyone has a cerebellum, a cerebrum, and a brain stem as well as all the divisions and sub-parts. But the things I’m talking about, though they happen in the brain, are functions of the mind, which I see as a separate, non-physical animal. I don’t think I’m unique there in having one that’s incredibly stubborn and resistant to change.
If I’m honest, I’ve been lax lately, and allowed my mind to call the shots too much. The amount of actual forward-moving change in my life for the last couple of weeks has been incredibly small, and frankly, frustrating. I don’t fault my heart and gut for wanting to relinquish control for a little while. Everyone needs a break now and then. But it’s time to make some changes. Get moving. Create something amazing.
That means getting caught up on my blog posts which, in all honesty, aren’t that backlogged. I think I need to write two to get back on track including this one. But I’ve grown accustomed to being four weeks ahead, and slipping even by a day makes me go “EEEK!”. That’s a good thing. If I respond with action instead of reaction, I honor those commitments I made to myself, and don’t take lightly.
A Family of Overachievers
Honoring commitments to myself has probably been the hardest lesson for me to both learn and maintain. It isn’t that I wasn’t taught to work hard, keep my nose to the grindstone, and all that rot. Nor do I come from a family of people who always worked for someone else. As far back as my grandparents on both sides, there have been business owners. On my dad’s side it was two generations of electrical contractors, with two different companies in my grandfather’s generation and one in my dad’s. On my mom’s side, my grandmother owned a liquor store for many years, and used to save the Kennedy halves and silver dollars for my sister and me.
Aunts and uncles followed suit, but took advantage of their parents’ push for education to become doctor’s, lawyers and CPA’s. I can only conclude from the many who walked their own path that my family had been under someone else’s thumb for enough years while living in Europe and Asia to want to be free of those shackles once they came to the US, and to do whatever it took to get there. In short, they learned to commit to themselves.
So why wasn’t I taught the same lesson. Or was I, and it didn’t take because of the way it was delivered, and the example set when my dad spent his evenings either working on plans in his office, or drinking in front of the TV? Did I develop a picture in my mind that said working for myself would lead to addictive behavior and an unhappy home life? (as if it didn’t anyway, given I married a man who was a lot like my parents, alcohol and all).
Underachieving for All the Wrong Reasons
In hindsight, I think a lot of factors got involved. In the first place, I went overboard trying to 
fight any similarity to my mother. No, “fight” isn’t really the right word. I beat those similarities into the ground until they were millions of tiny fragments that could never be reassembled. Even before my mom took her own life, I was terrified of turning into someone like her.
I hated her obsessive compulsiveness when it came to cleaning. I despised her nagging, and refusal to accept anything I did as right or worthy. I ignored all of her good qualities, and most of the things she could have taught me which, if used properly, might have made my road a lot smoother. In hindsight, I did myself a huge disservice, but accept I followed the path I was supposed to tread.
How many people turn their backs on the beauty and value of what’s in front of their noses because they’re unable to see them through the masks and smokescreens? How much good is hidden by people who’ve been hurt, abused, and beaten down for too long that they’re unable to show those beautiful, broken, human parts, even to their children?
Overcoming Barriers to Success
I see myself as one of the fortunate ones. It took years of soul-searching, and I waited until late in my life, but I get to see those parts of my mom she kept hidden, and I failed to seek out. I get to see the loving, compassionate, perfectly human woman she was despite the harsh realities life tossed at her. She hid those parts well in hopes of being loved, accepted, and protected. In so doing, she failed at even the smallest of these. Perhaps that’s what, deep down, I hoped to overcome, and mistakenly believed being as unlike her as possible was the path that would allow me to achieve what she couldn’t.
In the end, I was more like her than I cared to admit. I spent over 40 years hiding my true self, connecting superficially with others, and failing to find real love and acceptance. I had to learn everyone is broken in some way, and being able to admit it and even revel in having survived life’s hard knocks is what allows for the strong, resilient connections she couldn’t teach me to make.
Today, I’m able to share her qualities with my daughter, but also admit she had weaknesses she was unable to overcome. Some of those weaknesses found their way into my own character. The difference is, I’ve learned when to tell my mind to shut up, and listen to my heart which will always assure me I’m worthy. Knowing it helps me push procrastination aside along with everything else that stonewalls me now and then. I get to move forward and be whoever, and whatever I choose. The only one who ever can or will stand in my way is myself.
About the Author
Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri 
believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.
If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author. And check out her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward.
Be sure to watch this space for news of the upcoming releases of ” Rebuilding After Suicide” and “Sasha’s Journey”.
