What Nobody Tells You
First comes motivation, then fatigue, and eventually the light
I recently discovered that motivation is a fleeting firefly. It’s a magnificent sight that influences you to do great things. You set off on an inspired journey but somewhere along the way it disappears. Puff. Gone. Just like that. You’re on your own for the rest of the journey, without your muse. The two things that you still have are its memory and your hard work. And most of the times, they take you all the way.
I’ve been experiencing this on my journeys of doing something I like. I give it my everything and after a point, it takes so much from me that it leaves me tired. Motivation doesn’t cut it anymore. The fatigue creeps up — sometimes, I’m halfway through and other times, I’m at that place where I can see the end but can’t seem to move. We don’t talk about this phase of the journey enough. We talk about success without acknowledging the fatigue. We talk about the endgame as if one didn’t almost end the game many times before reaching there.
If you don’t YOLO, you develop FOMO
The constant narrative around travel is how much one is missing out by not doing it. If you don’t YOLO, you develop FOMO. And of course, people are only ever having the best time of their lives. What we don’t talk about how tiring it can also be, especially when done for a long period of time. Churches, temples, forts, and castles blur into the same thing. Cities and towns begin to feel the same; even beaches and mountains fall prey to it. The constant moving around and new beds come with expiration on how much they can be enjoyed. At a point during my solo trip, I couldn’t fathom excitement for yet another town square. I knew that fatigue was setting in. A part of me wanted me to keep going but I wasn’t having fun.
What I love the most about the writing challenge is the process — the excitement of a new idea, working through it, mulling over it, knowing that it finally makes sense, and the sigh I can finally breathe when I type the last words; it gives me a rush. But that rush is taking longer these days. I still love the process but I also know that my mind is tired. I’ve been peering into my experiences and I’m finding it difficult to continue to look. I know that there’s a long way ahead but walking feels hard right now. It has been creeping up slowly.
To quit or to continue to walk?
Every time I reach this point, I know that I have two choices — to quit or to acknowledge the fatigue, rest, and then continue. And what helps me make the decision is reconnecting with my why.
I took a break from traveling during my trip and decided to volunteer. I needed to stop saying goodbyes and take a moment to feel like I belonged to a community. Volunteering gave me the energy to gather myself and continue the journey. The times I chose to spend with people gave me a new perspective on many things.
I’m doing the same with my writing. I’m choosing experiences with people over publishing an article a day. I still write every day and it’s these experiences that give me the inspiration. I want to continue to write because I believe in the journey I set out on but I also know I need to take time out and take care of myself.
You’ve gotta fight your way through
I heard Ira Glass’ advice for beginners at an event a few years ago and it changed the way I looked at being passionate about something and producing work around it. I find refuge in it.
“For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. We all go through this. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”
Daniel Sax’s video and Ira Glass’ body of work is proof that it’s okay to be tired and it’s okay to take a break. The endgame is to be a better creator than one was at the start of the journey. It’s important is that one continues to do the thing they are passionate about, even when they can’t see the end of the tunnel. Maybe it’s not about the light at the end of the tunnel, maybe it’s about the tunnel itself.
It is for this reason that I need to start walking again once I have collected myself. I need to continue to travel to meet people and collect their stories and I need to continue to write to share our stories. And I need to do it again and again and again to get good at it.
Should you still take the leap?
As overwhelming and messy as the process seems, don’t let it stop you from taking the first step. It is magical to discover this process and drown in it. Take the leap of faith and trust yourself.
I hesitated for years to travel by myself. There was always an excuse. But I finally decided to do it in September 2017 after much deliberation. The day came and I was as ready as I could be. But life’s funny — my trip almost ended even before it began. I had an insanely early morning flight and I missed it. I had two choices in that moment — I could stay back in Buenos Aires or I could buy new tickets. I asked myself if I would remember this week years later if I stayed in Buenos Aires. I knew my answer and I booked new tickets. It was strange because I immediately felt a sense of relief. The emergency I was afraid would happen, happened and I handled it. The band-aid was ripped off and it gave me the confidence that I could do it again. I made it to Mendoza the next day and the next seven days changed my life. I will always remember that trip because, for the first time in a long time, I was a part of a family. A group of lost souls found a home in each other.
Nobody tells you how crazy the ride is but even if someone would have told me, I don’t think I would have really understood it. Experience is the only teacher. Do that thing that makes you question your sanity. While you’re at that, don’t forget to anticipate and accept some craziness along the way.