We are all trying our best.
I often forget this.
Sometimes, I don’t try my best. I want to, but going hard every time in every way is the formula for burnout. I think the idea of grind culture and side hustles can be toxic. Ok, I even hate calling it toxic, because even that has grown out of proportion. Grinding can be unhealthy.
For the longest time, I truly believed if I worked hard that it would pay off. Motivational posters, stories galore. Hard work would pay off. Right? That is what we all believe and reinforce to each other. My “best” often lands me in the middle, I slip through unknown. The real secret is that I hold back, so afraid to go fully me or be as good as I think I could because I see that my 75-80% effort is met with lukewarm receival, 100% seems unwise. I suppose it is self-preservation. 100% has always led me to disappointment.
But I was only looking for one outcome. I missed the fact that sometimes what you think you want might not actually be what you want. More is happening than what we perceive—good, bad, neutral. What we offer to the world is never the entire story, whether we know it or not.
We are naturally inclined to look up the ladder, at everything we want to accomplish, to goals and success in a hopefully not too distant future. We might even look to the side to see where we are in terms of progress. Again, it is natural for people to use other people in ostensibly similar circumstances as comparable markers. Usually, this brings heartache, but it is known how commonly people evaluate or assess their journey with others.
We rarely look down the ladder. And I don’t mean to from where we came. Clearly, it gets mentioned in every underdog story. I mean that rarely do we extend the ladder down to help those that have less or struggling more and look up to our position as their goal. We are too busy looking up to our next desired spot.
I, for one, can think of times when I lamented what I didn’t have or crow about how I succeeded despite it. However, it negates another’s feelings, experiences, struggles to suggest that they can overcome their conflicts simply because “I did”.
Maybe I didn’t have trouble learning to drive a stick shift. Another might. Maybe socializing is easy for Jane, but it is hard for me. Life is a beautifully ugly conglomeration of opposing, contradictory, interesting, frustrating juxtapositions. We are so much alike, and yet all so different. It can be both, we can be both, we can be neither.
I often feel like no one understands me, that I fall through the cracks of life. The more I try to shout, reach out, take up space, the more I am diminished, the more I sink into the quicksand. I relate to being a highly sensitive person (HSP) much to my chagrin. I think too much, feel too much, hear too much, observe too much; it is exhausting.
I conclude that I am my own problem.
I am not sure anyone can really convince me otherwise. People both understand and don’t, as is the complexity of life. Most people go through life, waiting for their turn to talk, not listening, and living through the filter of the self. It is natural. I am unconvinced that we can ever remove ourselves from this perspective.
Clearly, I spend too much energy on contemplating ideas that have little to do with me actually accomplishing my goals. I suspect it could easily be viewed as whinging, excuse-making, sour grapes, et cetera. So be it. We do the best we can.
I am learning to be happier expressing my 100. Accepted or rejected. Me @ 100.
I am also looking to leave the ladder down.
Off Course 