Can Positivity Be Negative?

I’ve been a yogi for many years now. Thanks to yoga I am more flexible now than I have ever been, not to mention that the practice brings me much needed peace even if for only for a few minutes a day. That said, for the past few years something yoga teachers are known for saying has really been bothering me because I know it not to be true. Or at least, not necessarily a good thing or the way to go.

Let me explain.

In yoga there is this philosophy of “everything’s possible” and “if you dream it you can do it.” These are great ideas and I fully believe in them except for one thing: when you try so hard and stretch yourself so thin to be able to accomplish all these goals, you often burn out. Which is exactly what happened to me and what I fear will happen to some of my younger writer friends.

The other day there was a reel on Instagram at the @abimillsyoga (she’s hilarious by the way. I highly recommend a peek) that, however comedic, really showed how we are often pushed to do all these things because “they are healthy and good for the soul” ignoring the fact that we are human with responsibilities and do not live in isolation from the rest of the world.

Even before I started my yoga practice, I had this belief that if you really want something, you can definitely achieve it as long as you work hard and are willing to sacrifice for it. I practiced what I preached. Even though an extreme introvert, I have always gone after what I wanted and dreamed of.

But fast forward to my life in the US after I got married. I have always (since I knew how to put words together into sentences) wanted to be a published author. Like many of my dreams (being a dancer for example) I had stuffed it in that little room in my head labeled “beautiful dreams that due to circumstances will never come true”. And no, I was not being pessimistic, just realistic.

Back then in Portugal only the rich had access to certain things, like dance classes. I practically lived in bookstores but I can’t remember a single Portuguese author who was not either wealthy or from a “connected” family. Most of them were professors of this or that and other than the classics, like Eça de Queiroz, I don’t recall a single genre author who hailed from my native country. Lofty dreams like that were for the ones who were rich or willing to move abroad. That was not me.

That is until I married an American sailor and moved to the USA where the roads are paved in gold and all dreams can come true. Yes, read it with a tiny bit of sarcasm because except for the gold-paved streets, it’s a true statement. Americans, generally speaking, are not afraid to work hard to achieve their dreams. In fact, it’s widely encouraged.

As a new American, I totally embraced this belief and started working toward my dreams. Dancing was in the past. I was too old to start then, so I focused on my other major dream: becoming a published author.

I worked hard. With a colicky newborn who did not allow me to sleep for months, I tapped away on my electric typewriter (stop laughing. It was a beauty) and spent the little money I had on expensive paper and postage to mail my manuscripts to publishers only to get letters of rejection in return.

Later I decided I wanted to be an English as a Second Language teacher and went back for a second degree while I worked full time and had school aged children. At times, when my husband was out at sea, I wrote whole papers or studied for exams at Chuck E Cheese’s because I could let my kids play while I worked. Then I went for the Master’s Degree. Why not?

More recently I went back to my old dream of being published. I got lucky and was picked by a small publisher and my journey as a published writer took off. I would work all day in school plus hours of planning at home, write for a couple hours every day, take care of my family, deal with some very serious life events, work on marketing, attending author classes and events… I’m tired just thinking about it.

I was very proud of my achievements. I was publishing anywhere from three to four books a year (both traditionally and self-pub), barely selling any of them, but crushing it in terms of going for the gold. I was doing it all. All my hobbies went out the window (including reading for a while) for lack of time and my whole life was consumed with work–both my day job and my writing career. Somewhere during this time I stumbled upon yoga after a few years of Zumba-fever and the message was clear: keep going, don’t give up, you can do it!

Last year, I crashed.

After a very difficult release in the beginning of the year, I not only lost my mojo for publishing, but I started getting sick often. This morning person had to drag herself from bed to go to work and, when faced with a work-in-progress, all I could do was stare at the screen. Fatigue colored my world, both physical and mental. I was in full burnout mode.

Still am. But with age and experience comes wisdom–or something like that. I woke up one morning, tired of feeling tired and useless and forged a plan of sorts. I was going to take it easy both at work and in writing. I was going to pay closer attention to what I ate and do other things for fun. I was going to wear other things besides yoga pants and T-shirts. I was going to claim my life back.

Does that mean I quit my dream? Absolutely not. I am slowly beginning to write often again. I have many projects in the back burner and restarted taking classes on marketing and other business-related things. But I am not going back to the feverish race I was on before and these few months of downtime did me good. I am eating well, doing my yoga more frequently again, I have hobbies that do not involve writing and that keep my mind and my hands busy, I’m reading a lot and slowly going back to marketing my books and making plans for the future.

But this brings me back to where I started this blog: this push from social media influencers, from our well-intentioned yoga teachers and writing coaches, from other more successful writers, and the world in general can be negative in its overly-positive and motivational message. Even though I was working myself silly I couldn’t help but feeling I was doing something wrong, that I wasn’t doing enough, that I was stupid and lazy compared to others. Now, I still feel like that more often than I’d like to, but I have grown and learned to be good to myself, to forgive myself for not being a successful writer, to go with the flow…

And that, my friends, is the cautionary tale of an overworked and overwhelmed older woman. Take it easy. Fight for your dreams but without wearing yourself out. It’s not worth it if you can’t enjoy it because you’re so tired.

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