On lacking Grit & New Year's resolutions

It’s January. My birthday month. This year, I’m going to be twenty-nine years old. Honestly, I cant believe it. Inside, I still feel like an anxious eighteen-year-old, getting ready to start “the rest of my life.” There’s such a strong juxtaposition between where I should be at this age, where I’ve always wanted to be at this age, and where I actually am.

I’m not saying that I’m unhappy. I’m actually really happy.

I’m really happy despite the fact that I’m no nearer to owning a house. And despite the fact that I’m no nearer to finding someone to be in love with. And despite the fact that I still can’t pick up after myself and my room is a total mess (sorry Marie Kondo!).

Actually, though, this last point has recently made me stop and think. Growing up, instead of “clean up after yourself,” my mom always told me to “full-cycle.”

Full cycle. What she meant was that I should complete the cycle of whatever it was I’d been using. As a child, if I took out a toy, that was the start of the cycle. Playing with it was the middle of the cycle. And then putting it back where I got it was the end of that toy’s cycle.

It was quite a sophisticated concept for a five year old—and I have to admit that for a large portion of my life, I was not sophisticated. To me, full-cycle meant that I had to clean up the twenty plastic horses that were strewn across my bedroom floor instead of head straight outside where my brother and the neighbors were rollerblading.

What made it worse was the fact that I had to use this strange word while the rest of my peers sang the Barney clean-up song. How’s a girl supposed to fit in when she doesn’t sing the Barney song??

However, now that I’m older and Barney is no longer the ultimate celebrity (thank you Cardi B), I can finally appreciate the message that she was giving me.

My mom and me at a ski resort in Canada

If you complete the full cycle with anything, you get to enjoy whatever it is you’re using and keep it safe for use later. You also get to enjoy whatever comes next more fully. If you bake a pie and return all of the cooking materials—cleaned and dried—to their rightful place, the pastry tastes better because you don’t have a pile of dirty dishes looming in the back of your mind. Their cycle has been completed and they’re back where they belong.

However, putting full-cycle into practice is a bit more difficult than it sounds. Especially if, like me, you’re already so focused on what’s coming next that the previous task of baking or playing or crafting has already left your mind. You’re no longer interested in the picture you were painting, so the easel, paints, and canvas aren’t captivating enough to full-cycle.

I’ve always been someone who flutters from one thing to the next. Not in an ADD sort of way but in a I’m so excited about this next project or task that it’s all I can think about, so I couldn’t possibly concentrate on what interested me last week, last month, or within the last hour sort of way. So, when I was finished playing with a toy, it was because I’d already moved onto whatever next game was happening (either in my imagination or with friends). That made it hard to return back to earth to complete the previous game’s cycle and put it all away.

Last year, I read Angela Duckworth’s  “Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance.” And I discovered—with great anxiety, of course—that I’ve never had this quality. Throughout my life, I’ve been drawn to so many subjects. So many languages. So many movies and books and ideas. I did focus on a few for an extended period of time—piano, horseback riding, the Spanish language, Tahitian dancing, painting, snowboarding… And I am so grateful to have been able to pursue all of these. But I never stuck with them. I never once became an expert in any. Once I’d had enough practice or knowledge to be adequate, it was always time to pursue whatever else was capturing my attention.

Horseback riding at Kualoa ranch in December 2018

This is perhaps why I my Creative Writing portfolio never took on the form of a novel and instead consisted of a series of short stories.

But for this year 2019. Although I think that deep down, this will always be a part of my personality—I’ll always have an interest in a variety of subjects and will always want to learn a little bit about a lot—I think that there are some ways that I can work on my “grit” and even complete the full-cycle of something.

First things first, I’ll want to actually use this term the way my mom did when I was growing up. When cooking, I’ll want to take out the oven racks, spread out my veggies, roast them, add them to whatever dish they belong to, wash the oven rack, dry it, and finally put it away. Full-cycle. I’ll want to wear my clothes, put them in the laundry basket, put them in the washer, dry them, and then actually fold and put them away. Full-cycle.

Then, I want to apply it to my writing. Something that I’ve never lost interest in, have pursued more-so than any other hobby or task that I’ve attempted, but have never fully taken to the next level. My goal is to capture the ideas that often float into my head. Then, instead of just thinking that would make a good story or blog post, I’ll actually write them down. Whether it’s simply putting down the exact thought that flittered across my mind or writing detailed descriptions about my upcoming trip to Finland, I’ll be adding something here once a week for all of you. And for me.

From planning, to experiencing, to reflecting, to creating, to publishing. Full-cycle.

So, here’s to a new year and lots of fun storytelling to come.

Cheers!

Kellen