Difficulty at the Beginning
There's something charming about beginning. That thrill of novelty, feeling like you're opening new doors and peering through all kinds of truth-shrouding veils. Beginner’s mind is a beautiful thing, but repeat the pattern often enough, and you have to start to admit that you've been through some of these doors before. That you're stripping off veils that you danced off ages ago, but are now somehow back and clinging. And instead of feeling inspired by novelty, the rush is gone, and it starts to feel like "ugh, not this *again.*" You get sick of yourself.
There's a hexagram in the I Ching, hexagram 3, that's called "Difficulty in the Beginning." It's one that sticks in my mind because as we were discussing the I Ching in school, and I was journaling about it at home, I had one of those synchronous moments. The night that I worked on hexagram 3, my husband and I went out for sushi. The waiter took our drink order, and I got a Ramune: a soda that comes in a bottle with a unique pouring mechanism, and can take a bit of work to open. The waiter brought our drinks, went to open the bottle, and struggled a bit. When he finally got it open, he ducked his head and exclaimed "haha! Difficulty at the beginning!"
My eyes were like o_O. I almost screamed. It was one of those moments where you know you're in some sort of zone, and that there's a clear message being delivered.
The metaphor given for this hexagram is a blade of grass breaking through soil. Breaking out of a seed and through soil takes a big burst of energy--but it's a process that only has to happen once. The grass continues to grow from there.
But we humans are not blades of grass. We have weird emotional patterns, we have relationships, we have distractions. And these can lead us to uprooting and replanting our efforts when there's no need. When we'd be better off just allowing for dormant periods, pausing and continuing to grow when circumstances are more favorable. Plants don't panic in winter, they just rest and come back for another growth cycle in spring.
This idea of Difficulty at the Beginning just came back to mind as I was feeling a sense of struggle launching a new big project. There is a recurrent pattern in my life, that as I need to focus and shift more attention to my professional life, something in my family life goes wrong or requires my attention. For years, my process has looked a bit like:
• Start project
• Perceive negative pattern
• Get annoyed by negative pattern
• Panic due to feeling trapped
• Stop working on everything
• Distract myself
• Get re-called to my mission
• Struggle though starting over from the beginning
This takes a LOT of energy. And it's only been recently that I've realized that I can break this pattern.
I will admit, I am the type who tends to see these patterns as “curses” or “demons” and develop feelings of fear and helplessness around them. There’s part of me that thinks “well, it must be a sign, you’re clearly not meant to complete this task.” Which gives way too much power to the negative pattern.
But it’s easy to make incremental change, once you recognize that that’s all that is actually required. If I want something done, I have to stop putting myself through that beginning process. I have to start and keep going NO MATTER WHAT.
And this means keeping a thread going throughout all of the ups and downs -- even if you're at a funeral, even if you're sick or in pain or not feeling well, or just don't freaking feel like it -- it is important to pick a small thing, no matter how small, and just keep your work alive over time.
You can do simple things, like scheduling appointments with colleagues or coaches. You can ask a Facebook group a question. Make casual videos or write short blog posts. A low effort, but often very rewarding thing to do is to read old things that you wrote, highlighting things or taking notes. It can help you recover some of that beginner’s spirit without having to re-take the journey.
This is also a great time to hire a helper. While you’re tending to other business, you can rest assured that someone is working even when you’re not able. For example, you could give content you wrote to a designer, coach, or editor, and then only have to deal with a short check-in.
Hiring out can also help solve a secondary problem: when you’re in a stressed or depleted state, it’s easy to be overly critical of your work. During these times, you’re likely to destroy, discard, or otherwise dismiss the things you’ve worked on. Sometimes it's because you can't be bothered to save your work in an organized way, and you lose track of it. Other times, you’ll just think your work is dull or pointless, or will take too much effort to shape into something presentable. These are other sneaky ways that the pattern can creep back in, sending you back to square one.
Know that difficulty is part of every new beginning, but look out for patterns that keep you from advancing to your full mastery.