The Heart's Game of Tug-of-War

I always feel as though I am in the middle of a game of tug-of-war. Each of my arms is one side of the rope and my body plays the role of the middle. The pressure of consistency and my mixed feelings about the desire for success pull one side of me, and my humanity and limited capacity pull the other. My heart plays its own game of tug-of-war with its equal desires. One on side, my heart wants me to strive for that aching dream of mine to be the writer I’ve always dreamt of being. That means consistent writing, researching, and showing up daily to become the writer I envision. The other side of my heart says, “You’ve spent your life chasing. Slow down. You are a human. Your capacity does not allow you to perform at this level.”

The human side of my heart is correct. I know that. But, I still try to get the worlds to exist together, as if it’s possible to get oil to dissolve into water. And that is why I fail every time. I cannot get the worlds to exist together. I cannot be both sides of my heart and myself at the same time. To be one means to completely neglect the other. To attempt both only leads to chaos. So, my human heart wins. And it results in inconsistency, mixed results, ebbs and flows and flows and ebbs. No matter, if it’s work, mothering, homeschooling, cleaning, cooking, moving, or breathing, the human side of my heart reminds me daily that I’m at capacity. And my capacity says, “I can only write when I can write. I can only work when I can work. I can only do what I can do. I cannot stick to a schedule. I cannot have a growth or strategy plan. I cannot reach what society would call “success” in any arena of my life. All I can do is just be and hope that my being will be good enough in a world that says only the amount I do is worthy.”

And, thus, we arrive at the irony of it all: my very conflict is the very reason for my work. I am beyond tired of trying to get these worlds to co-exist. I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember. Even as a child, my obsession with success was so great that I don’t think I was ever free to just be, play, explore, and create. This elephant has been on my back since I learned to walk and it’s time for him to go. That is why I wrote my book. That is why I have devoted my work to getting free and reclaiming our humanity. Because we all have the same elephant on our backs — we are all trying to conquer a world that requires us to die to our humanity to succeed. And our humanity is dying, indeed. Just look up. Open your eyes to yourself and the world around you. What do you see?

We deserve for our humanity to be more than enough. We deserve for our inconsistencies, our ebbs and flows, and our abilities and inabilities to be all that is needed for our success. Because, that is simply, us. Our humanity. Our humanity is enough. And I refuse to ever believe it isn’t enough ever again.

So, some weeks I can be that writer I dream of being. Other weeks, I can’t. Some days, I can be that mother that I strive to be. Other days, keeping my kids alive will be my greatest success. Some days, I can show up for myself and move my body, get my nutrition, drink my water, and keep my house clean. Other days, I’m lucky if I can move at all. Some days, 110% effort will be my capacity. Other days, 10% is more than I can give. No matter what my humanity demands of me each day is more than enough, no matter what society says is worthy or required for success. Will I have the same success stats that all of success-gurus have who continue to play the humanity-sacrificing game society requires of us? Probably not. But, I’m not dying to myself either. And, that, my friends, is the true definition of success.