For The Days You Don't Feel Like Showing Up

Some days I feel low on inspiration. Other days I feel like I have so much to share. More than once I’ve thought about giving this all up, but something in me can’t seem to quit. I don’t always know what it’s all for, honestly. Then I’ll get a note from someone telling me how a piece resonated with them, or how a class made them feel better that day, and I remember why I keep going. Even if I help just one person, I’ve done my job.

Job is such a strange word when you actually sit with it. My job as a mother is innate, I will do anything for my boys, from the basics of food and shelter to making sure they feel loved and safe. Then there’s the job I do to make money, and that’s where things get more complicated. Some people love their work, others count down the minutes until they clock out. I love the idea of doing what you love and never working a day in your life, but getting here took years of doing plenty of jobs I didn’t love so much. Scooping ice cream, walking dogs, waiting tables, babysitting. I had lots of fun, but I always knew I was working toward something else.

Years ago, right out of college, I did The Artist’s Way. I don’t remember most of it now, but I remember the part that stuck, you have to show up every day and create, whether inspiration shows up with you or not. Creating builds more insight. It’s a muscle, the same as anything else. If we waited around for motivation, we’d still be on the couch scrolling. I don’t wait to feel like unloading the dishwasher or packing lunches or going to the grocery store, I just do it, and somehow that’s exactly how it works on the mat too. On the mornings I’m sad or low or not feeling amazing, I still show up for myself. When I think about skipping this week’s mantra, I remind myself that maybe I’ll show up for one of you instead.

I wrote a few weeks ago about putting things down, about the fear and doubt and anxiety of carrying it all, and how much lighter it feels when we can let some of those voices go. But some weeks, letting go is only part of the lesson. There are days when the only way through is showing up anyway. Tired, scared, not entirely sure of ourselves, we show up, and somehow we make it through. We rarely believe we have it in us. And yet we surprise ourselves, every time.

We were just in Pennsylvania, my whole family, for my son’s ninja competition in Harrisburg, and Hershey Park afterward. A few days before the trip, I got hit with the nastiest head cold. By the time we got to the park I was on the mend but far from great, and my boys wanted to ride every massive coaster in the place. My head was pounding by the end of the day, but this was likely the only time we’ll ever be in Hershey together as a family, and I wanted to show up for them. I was so hungry at one point and really wanted a sit down meal but their excitement was so contagious. We made it through until the park closed and let me tell you riding those massive rollercoasters at night was pretty epic (even though my neck was suffering from whiplash for days afterwards).

My parents came too. They aren’t young anymore, though they’re not old either, and there was my dad riding the coasters right alongside his grandsons, and my mom on the Tilt-A-Whirl with the biggest grin on her face. They have always shown up for me, and watching them ride Sky Rush, one of the wildest coasters in the park, and then wait for hours to watch their grandson compete, reminded me that if they can show up like that, so can I. I can show up for myself, I can show up for my boys, and I can show up for others.

Isn’t it the best feeling when someone shows up for you? Comes to your event, makes time for a walk, gives you their full attention while you’re talking? We don’t have to show up in big ways. The small things usually mean more anyway. But showing up asks something of us. It asks us to rise to the occasion and meet ourselves exactly where we are, tired, sore, moody, uncertain, and show up regardless. Because if we don’t, we miss our own lives, and the lives of the people we love.

At Hershey park, I watched my dad holding my oldest son's hand as they walked off to ride one of the scariest coasters in the park together, while my mom stood in line buying my twins Hershey bars nearly as big as their heads. Everyone was smiling ear to ear, running from one ride to the next. My parents aren't going to be here forever. My boys aren't going to be little forever, wanting to hold my hand or beg me for one more ride. Right now, everyone I love most in the world is here, and I am showing up for it.

This week’s mantra:

I show up anyway.

I show up anyway.

I show up anyway.

Leave a comment with one thing you're showing up for this week. Sometimes saying it out loud makes it a little easier to follow through.

I will have a live yoga + Pilates class this coming Sunday and will share details later this week and tomorrow. The 21 day PILATES challenge starts if you want to join me!