Recently a dear friend of mine revealed her secret belief that I'm some kind of time ninja—someone who's preternaturally action oriented. An efficiency guru. A warrior of doing. A mover and a shaker and a candlestick-maker. And though she wasn't the first person to share this with me, something finally clicked: My blog-style weekly emails might be cultivating the wrong impression. Instead of encouraging you to make the changes you want to make in your life, it's very possible they're tempting you to think of me as Someone Who's Figured It All Out—or, at the very least, Some Who Gets It Right More Often Than Not.
I assure you: I'm in the trenches, too. I'd have dirt under my fingernails, except that mine are typically bitten down to the quick.
If I seem to have something figured out more than your average Jane, it's only because this is the stuff I think about on a full-time basis.
This is work I feel called to do because this is the work of my life. As in: the struggles I have and the lessons I most need to learn.
Yes, there are some areas where I kill it: I'm really good at jumping into new ventures before I can talk myself out of them; I'm stellar at identifying a first, small step toward any goal under the sun; I have a knack for innovative thinking and for finding the unorthodox route through most obstacles.
But I, too, sometimes neglect the utility bill until the eleventh hour, at which point my payment might not clear before a late fee gets tacked on. There are days when I get absolutely nothing done because I follow every single distraction and commit to nothing and disappoint myself deeply. Of the many items that I added to our house to-do list when we moved in last summer—e.g., "Patch the hole in the soffit over the front porch. Get a new chimney cap. Re-caulk the gap between the foundation and the walkway.")—I've taken action on...none.
I'm not trying to convince you of anything, but I am trying to say this: I want you to know and believe that I'm in the trenches with you—and, because of that, I can help you.
It's often the folks who don't struggle with the same stuff we struggle with who can't really help us—not because they don't want to, but because the nature of our particular struggle eludes them in the first place.