"Ce n’est pas une course." It's Not a Race.
And a comment box for the inner Critic.
And a comment box for the inner Critic.
Modern social wisdom dictates we should be something, and not just be. We should be better, faster, skinnier, more beautiful, successful, healthier, richer, doing more, doing less, doing something. Constantly. Always. With no exceptions.
This is hard to swallow when you feel like a turtle. When progress is a slow dripping machine.
Every Wednesday, I lead two reading groups for French kids at my local English library. My second group, a bunch of five- and six-year-olds, have been rowdy these last weeks, even during the activity part which normally keeps them quietly distracted.
This time they were chatting—almost yelling—about unrelated subjects such as their hair lice and anacondas in the jungle. To get them back on task, I suggested they hurry, to see who could finish colouring their sheets first, hoping their inner competitiveness would quiet them for a few minutes.
But an unexpected rebuff quickly put me back in my place. “Ce n’est pas une course,” a five-year-old told me. “It is not a race. My mom says what matters is that you take part.” He then proceeded with his conversation about anacondas on the South American continent, leaving over two-thirds of his page unfinished.
I was taken aback for a moment. A million thoughts came to mind. First, how do five-year-olds know so much about wild animals? Second, I didn’t fully agree with the kid. Yes, participation is important, but unfortunately, it’s not always enough in the socially constructed system we live in. At least, not as a fully abled and enabled person. In life, you can’t always take part at your leisure. Or can you?
On the other hand, the kid had a point.
This is not a race.
At least not with others. If you like racing, aka competing with yourself, pushing yourself to do better purely for yourself, I think that’s a noble cause. Personally, I’ve never dealt well with competition, so I prefer other approaches like Phil Stutz’s String of Pearls.
String of Pearls
“In Stutz’s illustration, each circle or “pearl” is an action — and, since each pearl is a similar size, you can think of each action having the same value, no matter what it is. This means that every large or small action in your life (brushing your teeth, deciding to end a relationship) is just that: a thing to do. You are the only person who can put the next pearl on the string. But, within each pearl is a dark spot (Stutz calls it a “turd”), which is a reminder that no effort you make will be perfect. The key is to acknowledge that and keep adding to the string anyway.”
- Amanda Richards, Netflix’s Tudum Blog
If you haven’t watched Jonah Hill’s documentary about his therapist, I highly recommend it. Especially if you need a little boost these days. While you may have come across many of his ideas in other forms, Stutz presents them in a refreshing way. And frankly, it’s good to be reminded of these points often. What’s most striking about the string-of-pearls metaphor is what Stutz says at the end of his explanation:
“It’s like I don’t know if this is good, so I don’t have to worry about that. I have to worry about forward motion, putting the next pearls.” - Phil Stutz
Focusing on moving forward is what’s most important, not what others are doing, how slow you are, or how shitty your work or performance is. What matters is that you’re moving forward.
Move forward, string a pearl.
Bonus points if it has a little turd inside.
Move forward.
The Critic’s comment box
I was back on the (creative) block last month, which meant fear was looming close by. I’m about to start a new phase in my novel writing process and, to say the very least, it scares me shitless. So much so that my inner Critic has pestered me about how little progress I've made. Caroline Donahue at Oh! Murder says that the Critic usually shows up at the beginning of a new project or phase when we’re most vulnerable.
Many creatives talk about how to circumvent or, better yet, face the inner Critic. They all offer great tips. Even so, the asshole just won’t shut up sometimes. So I experimented with something new.
I created a comments box for my Critic, using an empty cookie tin I had lying around. Now, every time it has something to say, I write it down on a piece of paper, put it in the box, and close the lid. This way, the Critic feels it has expressed itself. Its comments live in a contained safe space other than in my head, and I can deal with them once I’m done working. Funnily enough, while I was writing these negative thoughts down, I instantly came up with a reply, which I wrote at the back of the comment.
This is just the beginning of my experiment. But I’m hoping, with time, I’ll be able to discern recurring themes and patterns in the Critic’s comments to help address these fears better. As I write this, I realize it would also be helpful to add the time and date on the comment cards, as well as note what I am working on when the Critic feels the need to intervene.
Let me know how you deal with your inner Critic. Or maybe try the Comment Box experiment and we can exchange notes!
Mother Teresa’s antidote to the Critics
I randomly came across this quote from Mother Teresa the other day. She refers to external critics, but I think it can easily apply to the inner ones as well. As creatives, we have to deal with both in any case.
“People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies. Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you. Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight. Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
― Mother Teresa
Mother Teresa was basically saying, keep stringing those pearls!
A few other things worth sharing
- I’m listening to the audiobook version of Feminism is for Everybody: Passionate Politics by bell hooks. It’s a great intro or refresher on feminist theory. This book is not just for women but for men too, as she argues that feminism is the fight against sexism. And sexism also impacts men negatively. Definitely worth the read.
- This is a fascinating article about how Okuda Hiroko, a Japanese musicologist and employee at Casio, influenced the history of Jamaican reggae and dancehall music.
- Over the weekend, I saw Return to Dust, a tender and unconventional love story set in rural China. Best described as elegiac, this slow-burning film portrays the hardships of extreme poverty while brilliantly showing the quiet beauty of a simple life.
- I have a thing for Italian disco and the audio escapism it provides my spirit. I’m constantly listening this Nu Genea track. Its music video (yes, those still exist) is deliciously absurd. You can stream the entire album on YouTube.
Happy writing, happy creating!
G.G. Law
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