“I’ve come to understand that not everything I write needs to go somewhere. But the act of writing itself—of witnessing—does something to me. It organizes what I didn’t know I was trying to understand. It shows me what I’m circling, what I’m avoiding, what I already know.
Writing, self-publishing, and small acts of attention help me keep my heart from hardening. They’re not solutions—but they’re part of how I stay human.”
The very idea that inconsistency is something to practice may fly in the face of everything you’ve ever heard.
It’s certainly the antithesis of what Julia Cameron prescribes in her book The Artist’s Way.*
*I actually love this book, but her specific creative process hasn’t been a good fit for me since my kid was born.
During my autism evaluation the psychologist noted that I was an “all in” person. I was drowning in commitments and my evaluator suggested I try practicing inconsistency. I was completely blind to having that choice.
My brain only sees “do” or “do not.” (I would be an excellent Jedi Master.)
Its been a very long and slow process to begin shifting this.
That’s why I call it a practice. I mean that in the same way someone has a yoga practice or a gratitude practice. Inconsistency is something I’m actively working to cultivate in my daily life.
Because of this tendency I avoid “don’t break the chain” mindset like the plague. I’ve fallen under its spell many times and its pretty ugly. I could chain 300 days and if I miss a day its all over for me.
That broken chain feels worse than starting from zero.
My best defense is to embrace inconsistency. To invite it in.
When I was journaling as a new mum I was often faced with the option to sleep or to write. And, in my maternal wisdom, I knew that Julia was wrong.
Here I am three years later.
I’m celebrating 916 journal pages during the first three years of motherhood. (189 of those were using a simple daily check in you can download here.)
I broke the chain many times.
I chose sleep, and baths, and yes sometimes even Stranger Things.
And I don’t regret it.
Because I was intentionally inconsistent this isn’t a failure. It’s a win. It’s me taking care of myself and my creative ecosystem.
Those 673 pages would not exist without taking this approach. (The same goes for writing my books by the way. That process was also wildly inconsistent.)
So here I am with a fist full of journal inserts (it is pretty satisfying they all match, isn’t it?)
…one of which was nibbled by my child when they were in the human goat phase. 😂
This taste for paper is part of why I found journaling time hard to come by. I’m writing more these days, but I still want to hold this practice with a loose grip.
Ok, it sounds like my child has waken up grumpy from their nap so my quiet time is all used up.
Until next time,
P.S. If you resonated this blog post you may enjoy the ramble podcast I recorded on the same topic.
Originally published to Substack on Jun 17, 2022.