Several years ago, a dear friend of mine gave me a life-changing gift in the form of a question: “What are you going to try first?”
When I was younger, that question would have been terrifying. Back when I believed I would only have One Shot at the perfect life. When I was enough of a perfectionist to think it was possible to get everything right on the first try. When any endeavor that might end in failure was one to be fearfully avoided altogether.
But on the day my friend asked me that question, it was a lifeline.
After years of pursuing a career I loved, I had finally admitted failure to myself. I couldn’t do the work without sacrificing my mental and physical health. I was burned out, and had just resigned from a position, but I knew it wasn’t just one job. The burnout had taken my whole career path with it. I felt both grief and shame. I was also terrified that I didn’t have any plans for the future.
Until that day, when I met my friend for tea, and told her about my resignation. Instead of horror, she looked at me with entirely authentic excitement, and asked, “What are you going to try first?”
It was a brilliant question. My friend had recently changed her own life dramatically, so she knew what I needed better than I did. It wasn’t as master plan. I didn’t need five-year-goals, or my new ultimate purpose in life. I just needed a way forward.
She asked me that question, and the first thing I thought was, “I’ve always wanted to write a book.”
So, I did! Happily Ever After!
Just kidding. This isn’t the story of how I went home that day and started writing my debut novel. Actually, I didn’t write anything at all for close to six months, except for long emotional tirades in my private journal. I had grieving to do, and then a lot of healing.
Through it all, I kept hearing my friend’s question in my head, and its two most powerful words.
What are you going to try first?
The first is the word TRY. You can’t know until you do something whether it’s going to be the right thing. Just like you don’t know until you try cilantro whether or not your genes make it taste like soap. The word “try” gave me permission to actually DO things, and got me unstuck from the cycle of rumination.
The other powerful word is FIRST. That word implies the existence of “second” and even “third.” It says that failure is truly inevitable, and therefore forgivable.
Those two words allowed me to look back at the career I’d left behind with a new perspective. I had believed that career would define me for the rest of my life. The anguish at having failed at that one thing nearly leveled me.
Changing the story in my head didn’t immediately turn the bad feelings into happy ones, but it did allow me to break them up into smaller pieces. I had tried something. Many things, actually, over the years. In the end, none of them had worked. Resigning just meant that I was going to try new things in a whole new area. There was nothing to regret about that, except perhaps that I could have done it sooner. Quitting didn’t mean being forever labeled a failure.
But this isn’t a story about quitting, either. It’s about trying.
I did a lot of experiments. I did a bit of writing, but a bunch of other things, too. I worked at a big box craft store for a few months, because it seemed like fun. I thought about becoming a professional organizer for a living. I worked as an office manager and bookkeeper for a small business owner, and inadvertently discovered an excellent “side gig” to help support my writing habit. I watched So Many Ted Talks. I started two or three blogs about my experience and scrapped them all.
Most of those things didn’t work. Also, I kept pushing myself too hard, and burning out all over again. (Burnout is like a repetitive-use injury. Without significant retraining, you’re just going to keep re-injuring yourself.)
But I kept trying new things. I learned a bunch of new-and-improved work habits that keep me balanced. I built a regular exercise habit that I don’t set aside every time life gets interesting. I baked a lot of cakes.
I also realized that this approach to life also applied to my creative work. I kept writing throughout all of that experimentation. I started a dozen different projects and finished enough of them to get better every time. I tried on lots of different methodologies, too, to see what suited me.
With each big project, I fought the belief that it might be the one. You know, the single best idea I’ll ever have, that’s definitely going to be the book that makes me famous. That one. I always wanted to believe it, but that whole idea is a myth.
I’m sending out queries now, for a manuscript that’s definitely the best thing I’ve ever written. So far. It’s not the last thing I’ll ever write, though, so it’s not going to be the best thing for long. And I still hear my friend’s voice in my head, excitedly asking what I’m going to try first.
I’d like to ask you that question, as well. As a gift.
The next time you feel discouraged, or sad, or like your most recent failure is just too much for you, please ask yourself:
What are YOU going to try first?