We all have our endless witterings to ourselves, the noise in the head. Mine is preoccupied with ‘how am I doing?‘
At what? Well, there’s the pain – EVERYTHING. I had a book published six months ago, and due to the vagaries of publishing have no idea how it’s doing. (ie selling? being enjoyed? creating envy?)
So I am endlessly attempting to ascertain, somehow – without any clear idea of what success might look like, how successful I am. Lots of sales? How many? Appreciation? How much? Amazon? (= hell)
I edit a website (http://thinkingardens.co.uk) – I can get numbers on that. How many is success? Wider than that – is it a worthwhile contribution to the world: how could I ever know? What if the numbers go down?
All of that might be liveable with, but it doesn’t stop there. Or anywhere in fact. Am I a good wife? That’s a biggy. Won’t know if I’ve succeeded at that until one of us is dead, having been still here, still married and still appreciative and loving up to zero hour.
The rest? Is my cooking/this meal good enough? Did I shop well enough or did I forget some stuff and get too much of something else? Is my appearance good enough – let’s not go there. Am I a good friend? My driving? Being thoughtful/fun/interesting/oh what?? Is my housework good enough? My weeding? My tweeting? Does anyone read my tweets? Like them? Is my blogging good enough? (a new one this.)
OK. You get it. I hope you don’t do it. The endless endless never ending need for reassurance – but about what? Am I good enough for what? For who?
And we all just end up dead…..