When We Reach Crisis Point

The other day, I heard some words to this effect:

Only when the pain that it takes to remain the same outweighs the pain that it takes to change are we finally willing to make some decisions and act.

We might be aware that things aren’t right. We know we should make some changes, but we put off doing this. Maybe we’re hoping things will get better. We’ll cope. We don’t want to give in. Perhaps change will involve facing the unknown. It might seem easier to stay where it’s safe. But then a day arrives when we know we’ve reached a crisis point. We have to act. The pain involved with change is less than the pain we’re enduring at the moment.

And that’s where I’m at right now. I’ve got to make some changes because I can’t continue what I’ve been doing. It’s too hard.

Unfortunately, I think I can do everything and I can do it all by myself. I’ve always been that way. I was the young mother who had a reputation for having an immaculate house despite having a baby and a toddler and no help. Of course, having the cleanest house of all my friends involved a lot of sacrifices. I had to use every spare moment that my children were asleep, not for resting but for keeping up appearances.

There is no doubt that I was proud of my ability to seemingly do everything alone. I wasn’t like my friends who were still in their pyjamas halfway through the day, whose houses were strewn from one end to the other with toys and abandoned clothes, who always had sinks full of dishes waiting to be washed. No, if you’d come to my house unannounced, you’d have been welcomed into a clean and tidy house and offered fresh coffee and newly baked cakes.

But it’s not likely you’d have visited me. Hardly anyone ever turned up on my doorstep without first telling me. Being prepared for possible visitors was a waste of time and energy. I knew that. But I still cleaned instead of resting. I felt I had to. As I said, I had a reputation to uphold. How I wish I hadn’t gone along that pathway. I just wanted to be like my friends who weren’t trying to be perfect but instead were focusing only on what was important.

You won’t be surprised to hear that, one day, I cracked. The burden was too much. The pain of staying where I was outweighed the pain of changing. So I changed.

Years later, I’ve reached another crisis point. I know I have to make some changes. This time, the situation has nothing to do with babies, toddlers, and clean houses. But it’s still about how I’m spending my time. I know I can no longer use every spare moment away from my family to blog, podcast, write books, make videos, answer messages and emails, edit photos and post on Instagram. I’m tired.

Some days, I just want to announce that I’m finished. I’m moving on. Instead of sharing thoughts about unschooling, I want to read books and watch movies, drink coffee and just have fun. So I decide that’s what I’m going to do, but then I think, “Sue, you’ll soon get bored. Don’t throw away everything you’ve worked on for the past 9 years. Keep going.”

And this seems sensible. I’ve got two newly published unschooling books that need promoting. I’ve built up a good audience for my podcast. I’m even gathering followers on Instagram. Why throw all that away? I need to keep striving for real success. Or is success not very important?

I think about what I’m trying to do. Get lots of followers? Sell lots of books? Gain fame? No, I just want to spread the unschooling message in the best way I can. In a way that doesn’t make me feel overwhelmed. That allows me time to enjoy life. Because I no longer want to spend every available minute working on my computer.

So what am I going to do? I’m going to make some changes.

Although I love podcasting, I’m taking a break from recording. It takes me most of a day to make each episode. I have to plan, record, edit, check, upload, and write show notes and a blog post, find photos, and make graphics. For the past 2 or 3 weeks, I haven’t been able to face doing all of that.

Also, I think I’m going to delete my Instagram account. Did you notice how I said, “I think…”? I wish I could be more decisive. It would be a lot easier to leave IG behind if I hadn’t made so many friends there and hadn’t had lots of interesting unschooling conversations with them. I have to keep reminding myself of the downside of social media:

I’m posting on a platform which belongs to Instagram, not me. I’m spending a lot of time creating content for someone else.

This would be okay if it benefited me, but IG controls who sees my photos and sometimes that means that not many of my followers actually see my posts.

Some days, I wonder if all the effort of using social media is worth it. But that beautiful grid of photos is hard to let go of. And there’s always the hope that I’ll spread my message far and wide because ‘everyone’ is on Instagram. If we want the world to know about our work, we need social media. Or so the experts say.

But I’m thinking of ignoring the experts’ advice. I’m not going to play by the rules. I’m going to do things my way which might not seem very sensible. Instead of podcasting or posting on Instagram, I’m just going to write a few blog posts and work on my next book. At least for now.

And I’m going to ask for help which I wasn’t good at doing when my kids were small. (Do most of us like to think we can do everything by ourselves?)

So if you’ve found any of my posts helpful, will you share them? And if you’ve read my books, Curious Unschoolers and Radical Unschool Love, and enjoyed them, would you mind telling people about them? Together we can spread the unschooling message by word of mouth. Five-star ratings and reviews on Amazon would help too!

Here’s a recent review of my book Curious Unschoolers written by S from Iowa:

As I told Sue, this is a wonderful balm to help my anxiousness rest. What a beautiful testimony to the beauty of a family who unschools! It truly is a family endeavor, not just mom or dad and the kids, and certainly not just the kids on their own. As Sue says, that would be unparenting. Sue treats the subject of unschooling as lifelong learning throughout her book with a depth of kindness and love that you do not often see elsewhere. Despite the book’s length, it is an easy read that you can pick up and leave as you can fit it into your day or week or month. It is not a how-to book with specific do-this ways to unschool each day. Unschooling is a way of life, and Sue demonstrates that perfectly in this book.

Thank you, S!

Something extra

If you’d like to hear about my early mothering days when I made myself overtired, you could listen to podcast episode 71: Tired and Difficult Days.

Photos

These are some more photos of our trip to see my son Callum. I didn’t post these ones on Instagram!

Apologies

Somehow I’ve got behind with answering comments. I’m sorry!  It’s always encouraging to hear from you. I’ll catch up soon!

So that’s where I’m at right at this moment. But what about you? Is there anything in your life that needs to change? Do you ever think you can do everything without any help? Or perhaps you’re much more sensible than me! And I wonder how you feel about social media.