Tag: self-improvement

Under Construction

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When I started But First, a Nap, I thought I knew exactly what I was creating.

I pictured a place to share my quirky sense of humor, tell stories from everyday life, and hopefully make someone smile.

And to be fair… I still love making people laugh.

Sometimes I even do it on purpose.

But somewhere along the way, something unexpected happened.

The blog started changing.

Every Sunday I sit down thinking I need to come up with something clever to write about. More often than not, I discover that what I really needed to write about was something I didn’t even know I was carrying.

A sewing machine became a lesson in persistence.

A church garden in London became a reminder that broken things can still be sacred.

An opera became something else entirely.

I’m beginning to realize that I don’t write because I have answers.

I write because I’m curious.

Curious about why certain moments won’t let go of me.

Curious about why some conversations stay with me long after they’ve ended.

Curious about what it means to become a little more fully human.

The funny thing is, I thought this blog was about sharing stories.

Instead, it has become a place where I discover them.

That has been both exciting…

…and terrifying.

Humor is a wonderful place to hide.

Vulnerability isn’t.

When I stop trying to impress people and start writing about what truly matters to me, it feels like handing someone a piece of my heart.

The scary part isn’t sharing my heart.

It’s wondering whether anyone will recognize a piece of their own in it.

Because if just one person closes their laptop and thinks, I thought I was the only one, then sharing my heart was worth it.

For a long time, I think I wrote with the voices of doubt looking over my shoulder. Every sentence had to defend itself. Every story had to prove it deserved to be told.

Lately, I’ve realized something.

I’m not writing for those voices anymore.

I’m writing for the person who quietly wonders if they’re the only one.

If they finish reading and feel just a little less alone…

Then every vulnerable word was worth writing.

The humor is still here.

It’s just making room for something more.

I’m becoming more willing to share my heart.

That has been both freeing…

…and a little terrifying.

The construction isn’t happening on the website.

It’s happening in me.

And if you’re willing to stick around while I keep figuring it out…

I’d love the company.

Thanks for sitting with me for a minute.

If you know someone who might enjoy sitting with us too, I’d love for you to share this post.

Asking for a Friend

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Is it judgy to judge someone who is judgy?

Asking for a friend.

(It’s me. I’m the friend.)

A few years ago, while working at a residential rehab, I accompanied a client to the emergency room. After the initial flurry of nurses, questions, and paperwork, there wasn’t much left to do except wait.

So we talked.

We talked about recovery, stigma, and how exhausting it can be when people see “addict” before they see “person.”

Maybe that’s one reason I’ve always had a soft spot for people who feel pushed to the edges.

Working in rehab confirmed something I’d suspected all along: people can make heartbreaking choices and still be worthy of understanding and love.

We talked about people who judged those struggling with addiction.

Then we talked about other kinds of judgmental people.

But not us.

Somewhere in the middle of that conversation, a thought quietly crossed my mind.

Am I being judgmental?

Sadly…

Yes.

Over the years, I realized something that changed the way I see people.

So often, judgment isn’t rooted in hatred.

It’s rooted in fear.

I’ve come to believe that people often fear what they don’t understand. Sometimes they’re protecting deeply held beliefs. Sometimes they’re protecting themselves. And sometimes they’ve simply never had the opportunity to know someone whose story is different from their own.

Seeing that people were often scared—not just unkind—didn’t make their judgment okay.

But it did make them easier to understand.

Does understanding why people judge make it okay?

Not really.

But it does remind me that “people” includes me.

I still catch myself making assumptions.

I still have moments when I see a label before I see a person.

Maybe that’s why grace matters so much.

We all need someone willing to look past the label long enough to see the human being underneath.

Including the person in the mirror.

If this post encouraged you, made you smile, or reminded you that you’re not alone, would you share it with someone who might need it today? Sometimes hope has a way of finding us through a friend. 💙

Procrastination Stole My Brain… So Here We Are

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Procrastination Stole My Brain… So Here We Are
Imperfect follow-through still counts

A few years ago, I wrote this:

I have learned that procrastination is a thief.
Let it into your life, and it will rob you of time, energy, peace of mind, and self-confidence.

And today—ironically—I had a whole train of thought building on that idea.

It was good. Insightful. Probably blog-worthy.

And now?

Gone.

Vanished somewhere between “I should write that down” and “I’ll do it in a minute.”

Which, honestly, feels a little fitting.

Because procrastination doesn’t always show up loud and obvious.
Sometimes it just quietly takes things from you.

A little time here.
A little energy there.
A little bit of mental space.

Until suddenly, the thing you meant to do… the thought you wanted to hold onto… the version of yourself that felt capable and on top of things…

is just out of reach.

That’s the part I don’t think we talk about enough.

It’s not just about getting things done or not getting things done.

It’s about what it slowly chips away at over time.

Your peace of mind.
Your confidence.
Your trust in yourself.

And yet…

Here I am.

This isn’t the post I planned earlier.
It’s not as polished or thoughtful as it could have been.

But it exists.

And maybe that matters more.

Because maybe the goal isn’t to never procrastinate.

Maybe the goal is to not let it take everything.

So tonight, this is my small act of taking something back:

I showed up anyway.

Late.
A little scattered.
Definitely not perfect.

But I kept a promise to myself.

And that counts.

So if today got away from you—if your energy dipped, your focus wandered, or your ideas slipped through your fingers—you’re not alone.

Let’s just practice this:

Show up anyway.

Even when it’s messy.
Even when it’s late.
Even when it’s not what you planned.

Because procrastination may be a thief…

…but it doesn’t get to take everything.

Not if we decide it doesn’t.

But first… maybe just a small nap.

Many naps later

azn8ive672 Comments

****UPDATE**** I did indeed write this post yesterday. Due to some technical difficulties, I did not get it posted. So, in full transparency, I am a work in progress. With that said, here is yesterday’s post.

A few weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back asleep.

You know that strange hour of the night where the house is quiet, the world feels paused, and your brain decides it is the perfect time to revisit every idea you’ve ever had?

Somewhere in that sleepless moment, I started thinking about writing again.

Not writing someday.
Not writing when I had more time.
Not writing when I finally felt organized, inspired, productive, or magically transformed into someone who never procrastinates.

Just writing.

So in that quiet moment of insomnia, I made a small promise to myself:

I would write every Sunday.

Simple enough, right?

Except promises we make to ourselves have a funny way of becoming negotiable.

And this morning, the negotiations began.

It didn’t start dramatically. There was no internal battle music playing. No heroic speech.

Just a quiet suggestion from my very reasonable brain.

“You could move writing to Monday.”

After all, it had been a long week.
Sunday mornings are peaceful.
And technically, Monday is also a perfectly acceptable day to write.

But then another thought appeared, and it was far less polite.

“If you move it today, you’ll move it again next week.”

And the week after that.

Not because I’m lazy.

But because I know myself well enough to recognize how easily promises to myself become flexible when no one else is watching.

That moment didn’t feel like motivation.

It felt like resignation.

Not the kind where you give up.

The kind where you finally stop pretending you don’t know what you’re doing.

Clarity has a strange power like that.

It doesn’t come with fireworks or dramatic music. It just quietly says:

“I see the pattern.”

So I opened my laptop.

And many naps later, here we are.

If you’ve ever struggled with procrastination, you might appreciate a TED Talk that made me laugh out loud the first time I watched it. It’s called “Inside the Mind of a Master Procrastinator” by Tim Urban. He describes the battle between the rational decision-maker and the Instant Gratification Monkey living in our brains.

If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth ten minutes of your life:
https://www.ted.com/talks/tim_urban_inside_the_mind_of_a_master_procrastinator

What I love about his talk is how human it is.

Procrastination isn’t usually about laziness.

It’s about negotiation.

The quiet, constant bargaining we do with ourselves.

Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe later.
Maybe when I feel more ready.

But sometimes a small victory happens in a very quiet moment.

The moment we stop negotiating.

The moment we simply keep the promise.

Not perfectly.

Not enthusiastically.

Just honestly.

And sometimes the victory looks exactly like this:

Opening your laptop on a Sunday morning when you’d honestly rather take a nap.