“Will it ever stop snowing?”
Part question and part plea to the weather gods, this phrase popped into my head no less than 15 times yesterday.
While some people thoroughly enjoy the “Do we live in Russia?” aesthetic, I prefer sunshine and blue skies.
The falling flurries, while pretty, end up being shoe-ruining mounds of dirt and water lasting for days.
“Take me to the beach!” is routinely shouted between mine and Geoff’s offices now that we’re moving to the Spanish coast at the end of next month.
Speaking of the move, I’ve started to notice something as I’ve been swimming in a lake of wedding and moving logistics.
Observations as I tread water in Lake Logisitcs
The days when I wake up and give all my attention to the logistics are the days I feel the least productive.
Even though I’m knocking off 10-12 of the tasks I’ve given myself, I’m left feeling like I’ve done nothing as I climb into bed at night.
On the flip side, I feel the most productive on the days when I sit down to write—even if it’s only for 30 minutes. No matter what else I’ve gotten done that day, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief.
When I tell the Taskmaster part of myself to take a back seat for a hot second, I feel lighter, freer, and like I have more energy.
Can you relate? Is there a part of you that acts like a Drill Sergeant?
We all have parts of ourselves that come out and run the show from time to time.
On a call with me late last week, a dear friend was able to surface a part that comes out and causes a tornado of confusion, so she can’t see clearly. It’s like her clairty gets glitchy and she doesn’t know how to move forward.
When she could finally get in touch with this part, it just so happened to look like the Wicked Witch of the West in her mind.
She aptly named it the Glitch Witch.
We develop parts to help us cope with chaos.
Naming them helps us become more aware of when they’re running the show.
For me, the Taskmaster tends to take over when I’m faced with managing multiple big projects at once. She feels most in control when there’s a list of things to keep track of and check off.
When I visualize her, she’s never without a clipboard and a pen behind her ear. She’d also love it if she could have a megaphone slung around her body.
To that part, prioritization of the list is less important than just getting things done, so sometimes the things most important to me get lost and put on the back burner.
If there were only one part trying to take the reins of our behavior at any given time, it would be one thing.
But often, there’s more than one. 🙃
Multiple Parts, Multiple Mechanisms
Even though I know that writing will make me feel better, I don’t always do it. Because there’s another part of me—I call her Polly—that’s fearful of what stepping into this next phase of life (which involves a heavy amount of writing) entails.
So instead of doing what’s best for me, writing, she pops up and, in a chipper voice, whispers, “Don’t you want to open Pinterest?” or “Doesn’t some mint crunch dark chocolate sound amazing right now?”
Imagine a six-year-old in pigtails with a lollipop in one hand and an overabundance of energy. That’s what Polly looks like to me. Her mechanism for coping with the fear is to throw up numerous distractions.
She thinks she’s protecting us from what’s on the other side of writing, so her intention is good, but she isn’t the one who needs to run the show.
The part of me with a deep sense of clarity about what I’m doing is the one who needs to be running the show. In other words, my true Self.
Fortunately, I keep getting better and better at recognizing when someone else has jumped in to drive the thought train. Instead of speeding away on me, I can swap who’s in the driver’s seat.
Instead of constantly trying to banish these parts, I’ve learned to work with them.
It makes things go much more smoothly. (You can do it, too).
P.S. If you want to know how to work with your parts, leave a comment below, and I’ll reply with one of my top tips for identifying your parts and letting your higher, most self-assured self take back the driver’s seat.