(day 18): positivity

I've been debating writing this post now versus later, but there are some things on top of my mind and it's best I put them out here, both for my catharsis and for the benefit of whoever is reading this, my future self included.

Short-term Delights versus Long-term Fulfillment

Firstly, I've figured out what's been causing all those sleepless nights and spells of dizziness from lack of sleep the following mornings.

I've been staying up late watching The Family Man, and if there's something I've learnt from experience, it's that watching TV right before falling asleep is a sure-shot recipe for me to not sleep well, to wake up often in the middle of the night, and to be all grumpy and antsy the next morning.

So I'm entirely to blame for this. TV has always been bad for me – it's way too much passive consumption – and it doesn't quite feel nourishing in a way that losing myself in a good book or a walk in nature or a visit to a new place feels.

Even reading too many books one after another can stop being nourishing for me, especially if I've put my writing on hiatus as a result or if I end up staying up late and sacrificing a good night's sleep in the process.

Sometimes the desire to know what happens next makes me give in to that temptation of just one more episode, or just one more page, until my eyes begin to protest and become too heavy for me to keep them open and they close of their own accord.

But this is what choosing short-term gain over long-term benefits is all about, isn't it?

This is what discipline is all about, isn't it?

To discern and make the better choice in the moment.

And to also understand that sometimes we make less optimum choices not because the temptation is so strong but also because we fear facing the discomfort that sometimes accompanies getting started on a project that holds some meaning and importance to us.

Taking Action Despite Extreme Discomfort

Dean Wesley Smith wrote a timely post today about how writers often see the dark side. He says that early-stage writers are often guilty of this as they complain about all the challenges they have to face, which causes them to look at their fiction writing as something onerous or negative.

One of the ways he suggests to overcome this is to look at fiction writing as fun, as play, and not as work, not to take it too seriously or make it something so important that we are paralyzed into inaction.

Towards the end of last year, I realized that the most important thing I needed to work on this year was my mindset towards this entire writing and publishing journey.

Oh, I am guilty as charged of every mistake beginning authors make, right from wanting to selling a million books right out of the bat to wishing the words would write themselves (hey, now that is actually possible what with so many AI tools ready to do your bidding, but being the masochist that I am, we all know I'm not going down that route 😂) to demanding that I get an uninterrupted three hours every day to sit down and write to sighing and telling myself often and loud and clear that I would have written more only if everything else in my life had been smooth and easy, putting my writing down, cursing my love for writing and wishing I had been a sensible person who had opted for a regular 9-to-5 job and could be content making an income and raising two kids (instead of the only one I have, although little D is one of the greatest blessings of my life) and on and on and on ...

I've debunked many of these myths for myself over and over again, yet I continue to fall into these traps of making life and writing difficult for myself instead of letting them flow naturally with the great ease with which life and creativity tend to unfold when not tampered with, when we're not clinging to our own limited expectations of how they ought to be.

For instance, this morning I spent almost an hour debating whether I should write this blog post now or later in the day after I have written down some words of fiction.

I could have very well used that hour to write this post, instead of questioning my urge to do so and squandering much time and brain power on a decision that felt supremely important in the moment but would actually turn out to be very inconsequential in the larger scheme of things.

Because, as I can see, having poured out these thoughts, I am quite keen and eager to get back to the manuscript I have been avoiding for a long time.

And boy, have I been avoiding it in some very creative ways – worrying about an upcoming doctor's appointment for D (which is still three weeks away), worrying whether my book will win an award it has been shortlisted for, waking up in the middle of the night worrying that D will fall off the bed, picking up a fight with KrA, fretting about having to do laundry – and the list goes on and on and on.

Funnily enough, all these worries come roaring at me in full force when I've been away from the writing desk for too long for my own good.

When I sit down and have fun and really enjoy the process of writing for its own sake, the rest of my life aligns itself miraculously in a way such that all problems disappear or at least feel entirely surmountable.

I ride high on confidence and on faith and trust that these words of fiction I write today will spill out into the Universe and make someone's day lighter and happier, fuller and more inspired.

But then, unaccustomed as I am to staying in this mood of positivity for long, I quickly slip back into my old ways and patterns, and the cycle continues.

Call it self-sabotage or fear of success or a mere subconscious repetition of old patterns, it's a familiar beast.

Known hell is better than unknown heaven, my mom used to say when I was very young.

I often took that to mean that it is better to stay in a hell that is familiar to us than to make it to heaven, especially one that is new and strange and unfamiliar.

It didn't occur to me back then that to stay in hell, whether familiar or unfamiliar, is the worst thing we could possibly do to ourselves as human beings. And that to create our own heavens, no matter how unfamiliar, is the best thing we can do for ourselves.

Clarity Often Comes from Action instead of from Analysis

I think too much.

I don't mean that in a bad or negative way, but I can see I don't have sufficient control over my mind. And the trouble with that is when I lack clarity in a situation, I often tend to brood and ruminate, and paralyze myself into inaction until I am fed up of remaining stuck or I come to some realization that sheds light on the path ahead.

I wouldn't have minded this kind of thinking much were it not for the fact that it often tends to be critical and unhelpful, rather than constructive. I tend to focus on the problem rather than on the solution. I tend to think a lot about the situation and all the troubles that could possible arise from it rather than on the numerous ways I can respond to it.

For instance, there's this particular book I'm in the midst of and I've been avoiding getting back to it.

And in this chasm that I've put between myself and the manuscript, I've poured a lot of negative thoughts such as 'This story is no good', 'It is too dark', 'I feel depressed writing it, which means my readers will feel depressed reading it', 'The main character is too weak', and so on and so on, none of which are really true by the way.

All stories are about the characters facing seemingly impossible problems, trying to solve them, and repeatedly failing and/or finding some small successes, until they get to the end where it's an epic win or an epic failure.

(On an aside, I have decided that all my stories will end in epic wins. I will never leave readers without a ray of hope at the end, no matter what kind of dark and twisted turns the story may take.

When I worry about writing dark scenes, I only have to remind myself that the Harry Potter stories are full of Dementors but they are also full of Patronuses and great friendships, that Voldemort exists but so does the courage and bravery of Harry and his friends.

So it is certainly not merely about the kind of dark turns the story may take as it progresses but about the light at the end of the tunnel. That's the hope and message of positivity that I wish to spread in the world.)

But if I get stuck in the dark turns of the book and don't get to the positive, winning end myself, then I'm depriving both myself and my readers the joy of reading something uplifting.

I'm not even giving myself a chance to prove to my own self that my characters can navigate these dark and dreary times and take me along with them for the ride and come out at the end with surprising courage and strength of heart and mind.

When I remain stuck in thinking mode and refuse to add words to the story, I do myself and the characters and my readers no service at all. In fact, I only keep strengthening the bridges of negativity in my brain and keep traversing them over and over again, remaining stuck in this action-paralysis and telling myself, 'See, I told you nothing good will ever come of trying this.'

On Toxic Positivity

In my earlier avatar, I often remained entrenched in the negativity loops by telling myself that the situation was too difficult and that if I were to put a positive spin to it, I'd only be fooling myself and going down the slippery slope of toxic positivity.

This gave me permission to stay in the modes of anger and fear and rage and anxiety and depression for a very long time.

That gets really boring and tiring and sickening very quickly. Also, it becomes very addictive and that's the first reaction my brain springs to whenever it encounters something new or out of the ordinary, basically every time I step out of the house or even log on to the Internet.

That is not to say I should deny any emotion that arises, but I can practise emotional acceptance and allow those feelings to be there instead of wallowing in them.

For instance, last evening I came across an author I hadn't heard of before, and I was completely enamoured of their books – speculative fiction cozy mystery! – but alongside rose the feeling of envy.

It filled my body with dread and my mind with every sort of critical thought. 'I'd never be able to write like this.' 'My stories are too dark.' 'Why can't I embrace my South Indian-ness and freely incorporate South Indian elements in the story?' 'I'll never be a success as an author.'

Gee! I am so sick and tired of the same kinds of thoughts cropping up in my head over and over again.

I went to bed feeling miserable, especially as I hadn't gotten around to writing fiction yesterday, and despite the fact that only moments ago I had been riding high on the news of Dying Wishes having been shortlisted as a finalist in the 2023 Rakuten Kobo Emerging Writer Prize in the Speculative Fiction category.

Every other book on the list has been traditionally published. So I feel a special pride bloom in my chest that my humble indie-published book occupies a seat of honour amongst books published by these long-standing giants in the industry.

Yet, the lustre of that news quickly faded as I found something to give my brain to feel anxious and angsty about. It didn't take me long to get on to that negativity bridge, did it?

And what happened as a result was the following, and I complelely ashamed that it turned out this way.

I fell into a restles sleep, then woke up a couple of times when D tossed and turned about, switched on the lights, woke up KrA, complained to him about how I've been spending so many nights sleepless, and asked D to go sleep with KrA in the other room, and it was only close to midnight at this point.

Then, sleep having completely deserted me for the night, I watched the last two episodes of The Family Man, munching on a banana and a bowlful of chips and hazelnut-flavoured crispies alongside.

Then I read Thirst No. 4 by Christopher Pike until my eyes grew heavy, telling myself I'd never be able to write as wonderful a series of books – it was close to 3 AM at this point – and eventually I fell asleep until D called out to me from the other room at half past six in the morning, asking if I would still drop him off to school despite the drama of the previous night.

All because I stumbled across a new (to me) author and began comparing myself to her and putting myself down, despite how much progress I have made in the past few years.

Am I ready for success?

Sometimes, I think this is why material success eludes me. I fail to celebrate and enjoy what I achieve.

In fact, when I receive good news, I quickly devolve into a mess as Critical Voice is quick to drag me to the depths of hell that I am most familiar with and well-accusomed to, instead of letting me sit in the excitement of my newfound heaven.

Apparently, there are terms for this: happiness anxiety, or even cherophobia.

Whatever it is called, by my reaction of short-lived excitement and joy followed by aversion and dread, I'm sending the message to the Universe that good news bothers me. And the Universe takes the cue and decides to not send me any more good news so as to spare me all the anxiety and trouble.

I want to pause here and give myself a big hug, because I recently learnt from doing a Big Life Journal printable with little D that we can experience a lot of conflicting emotions at the same time.

We can feel both excited and worried about an upcoming event that we're looking forward to. We can feel both happiness and sadness at an event, like graduation or the completion of a course or even a wedding.

Often, I get derailed by the sadness or nostalgia, I end up wallowing in them, instead of allowing myself a few moments to accept those conflicting emotions and stepping forward bravely, knowing that these emotions are fleeting and that I can handle whatever comes my way.

It's usually the fear that I may not be able to handle new challenges that keeps me mired in the nostalgia, instead of fully stepping up and embracing the new situation, confident and trusting that I can handle this with a positive outlook, no matter what.

At the beginning of this year, my only goal for 2023 was to develop a healthy and positive mindset so that I can build a long-term career in writing and publishing fiction.

This, I suspect, will remain the most important aspect of my days.

Looking at the present and ahead with optimism, and enjoying every moment of it, trusting that I can handle everything, come what may!