(Alt title; the blog post where I overused parenthesis).
How is it February already? The new year, once this shiny thing of promise, already feels a little heavy, a little grimy. I never really understood the emphasis of ‘new year, new me.’ I do, however, like goals and I like intentions. If you are finding yourself in February feeling a little grimy, or even if it is still a promising shiny thing, perhaps it is time to forgive our aspirations of ‘new year, new me’ and consider gentler goals and intentions for holding you in a new year or a new season.
I have enjoyed the trend of the last few years to set a word or phrase as an intention for the year, a gentle goal for yourself. I must admit, I can get a little carried away with these, screenshotting the flashing phrase from five different Instagram posts and choosing my favourite. Sometimes to the point of creating a list of intentions an arm long that clutter my mind and make it hard to focus on one specifically – the irony is not lost on me.
I created this blog as an experiment at the start of 2023, it was born out of my intention to lean into creativity. I laboured over the name and sat in anxious trepidation, wondering if my words were worthy or if anyone would bother to read them. I am grateful, dear reader, to all of you who have taken the time to engage with my blog. Especially those who have commented, reached out online or in person, your encouragement has meant the world. As a ‘words of affirmation’ gal, I cannot emphasize enough just how much this has meant to me.
I had set out to write a blog a month. I began with a new one, commenting on vulnerability and reformed three posts I had shared previously on a now redundant blog. Overall, I ended up writing 19 posts (and around 22K words all up). I had set an intention of leaning into creativity. The more I leaned in the easier I found it to keep leaning in. I found the target of ‘one post a month’ easy to hit, but I also let go of the expectation when some months I did not have a post. Whereas others, there were several. I did not want to rush a thought just to get it in on my self-imposed timeline. I found myself making notes as I read, having a list of ideas or starting a draft without the pressure to complete it. I currently have 14 posts in various stages of draft. Some may get completed, or they may not, this is ok.
I painted, drew, read, wrote and shared what I made. As the year unfolded I enjoyed some aspects more and others less. I continued to read, but lapsed in sharing reviews or posting on what I had read at all. I spent too long on social media and became frustrated with the algorithm. I continued to create and ignored social media, forgetting about it entirely. I was hesitant to stop creating because I had anchored it to something as arbitrary as social media and did not want this to be cause for plateaus. I enjoyed leaning into the intention of being more creative, without harsh limitations of demanding specific goals or expectations.
You might be asking, dear reader, what is the point of this? What have I learnt? Honestly, I’ve learnt a lot about myself.
Here are four words 2023 taught me a lot about: perfectionism, procrastination, process and progress. My understanding of perfectionism and identifying it as a barrier for me has been a slow one (see: imposter syndrome)¹ it would be disingenuous to suggest the same slow revelation about my procrastination. Although, understanding just how strongly they were linked, took some time. What of the other two words I’ve listed? Was that just an attempt to extend my alliteration as long as possible? No, if it were, I would have added ‘purple’ and ‘penguins.’ The truth is, dear reader, they are helping my understanding of the former, more negatively understood traits.
There are two quotes, in particular, about perfectionism I love:
“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of people.”²
– Anne Lamott
“Let’s call perfectionism by its real name: terror.”³
– Liz Gilbert
I have been teaching in the Middle Years for a long time (I won’t say how long, may my age remain indeterminable) and many moons ago I had a colleague who used the phrase “practice builds progress, not perfection” (or some derivative of this). We hung it in our classroom and pointed at it, attempting to promote perfection as unattainable and therefore not the aim. I will be honest, I scoffed at this. I did not point to the sign very often. I did celebrate practice and progress, I did emphasize that perfection was not the goal, but something in the phrasing held me back from fully embracing the mantra. A phrase I’ve come to use and resonate more with is “pursue progress over perfection.” I feel it does not dismiss perfection as strongly, therefore I feel less dismissed by it. Which may have been my dislike of the original, the way it ended with “not perfection,” the “not” weighing heavily on me, dismissing my natural tendencies with no room for redemption. Here, we acknowledge that perfection exists, it may or may not be attainable, but over this is the hope for progress. Whether or not in each new attempt our metric for ‘perfection’ has been realized, there is evidence of progress. In looking back, we see we are not where we were before, we are further ahead. In whatever pursuit this is, push ups are easier than they were, your brushstrokes are more confident than they were, your ability to construct a cohesive narrative has progressed, ETC. This is something achievable, measurable, reassuring even, for when I am unable to observe perfection I can acknowledge progress and find satisfaction in it (and myself).
Through this journey I have come to understand that I enjoy the process. Which, for a procrastinator, is odd. We don’t like the process, we like the finished result. We don’t want to sit in the process, we want to delay it, we want to click our fingers and wind up at our perfect product without ever having to start. But it is true, I have. To the point where I want to do something (like finish writing this blog) and there are other things I also want to do (sit and read while I am momentarily child free) and the inner voice whispers: give yourself over to the process. Because, I know, as soon as I start I will be glad that I did and get excited, focused, become energized and the process is far more rewarding than the later guilt and frustration of not doing the thing (whatever it may be).
I know for many, my students included, procrastination and indecision go hand in hand. The requirement to start is the deal breaker. On these days the instruction I give to my class is simply this:
Today’s aim: Get something on the page.
It is impossible to draft something that is not there. It is far easier to continue, to rework something that is already written, to expand, edit, change it, move forward. It is more encouraging to stare at a page with a few shoddy sentences than one staring back with its blank, white oblivion. Sometimes I need this reminder for myself – just get something on the page. Whatever that may be, a tricky email or a blog, sometimes we need that little encouragement to begin. All being said and done, I am better for the process, whatever the outcome.
I have learnt –
Sometimes it is good and sometimes it is bad. Write anyway.
Sometimes people will like it and sometimes they won’t. Create anyway.
I am better for the process. I am better for the practice. That alone is worth it.
And so where to in 2024? Is it enough to simply say: on.⁴ Of all that I have lent into this past year, I have enjoyed writing the most. I have started drafting some larger projects and am interested to see where they take me. If nothing else, I’m enjoying the process. It is safe to say this experiment has been a success, from my perspective at least. I have decided to cement my intention and have paid for my blog (gasp) and renamed it, without fear and with a little pride, with my name firmly placed (how embarrassing).⁵ “Letters and Lattes” is still on Instagram and we’ll see what happens in that space (@lettersxlattes).
And I have appreciated you, dear reader. You who said ‘thank you’ or affirmed my thoughts or simply stated ‘me too.’ We are in this together and I am so grateful for you. I’m grateful there is an audience for these weird ramblings of mine.
So set your intentions, lean in and don’t be afraid to learn something about yourself (and the world around you) along the way – even if it is already February.
Go well
Steph
¹ Yes, I am referencing myself here (shameful) If you’re interested in some further thoughts on imposter syndrome, see my blog Self-Advocacy – on the absolutely absurd task of advocating for yourself.
² Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (NY: First Anchor Books, 1995), p.589.
³ Liz Gilbert, “Why Your Creativity Matters” (S9, E15) Everything Happens hosted by Kate C Bowler (podcast), December 14, 2022, https://katebowler.com/podcasts/
⁴ That’s a Harry Potter reference, in case you missed it.
letters and lattes 
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