It’s been a while hasn’t it? Yes, dear readers, my age old pattern has resurfaced where I try to do too many things, and try to do those too many things too well that I end up doing barely any of it.
Yesterday I recorded a vlog of my garden, telling the story of how it went from an overgrown wilderness to a sad concrete wasteland, and my resolve to make things right again.
Here’s the video if you’re interested to watch:
It got me thinking about the way I have a tendency to go really head first into something, then running away from it almost as quickly because I’ve learned how much work it’ll take to “do it properly.” “Properly” has a loose definition, ranging from “needing to be the best", “needing to look professional,” to “needing to be better than [insert person here who’ve I’ve benchmarked as someone doing a thing I want to do and getting sales/attention for it.]”
The trouble is, it’s often the numbers side of things that gets in the way of me continuing with a creative project. Social media is great for connecting and getting your work out there but it can so quickly fall into a numbers game.
YouTube is constantly trying to get me to click on videos called “how I went from 20 to 1000 subscribers in 5 days” and they even teased me the other day with a short of mine that had about 4 thousand views. That sent me into this weird obsession for a couple of weeks of figuring out how to replicate that feeling again, constantly refreshing my analytics.
I’m resisting this with all my might. I like vlogging and I’m happy to build up my subscribers slowly as I learn more and more about what type of vlogging I like to do. I do sometimes worry that Youtube is going to end up going the same way as all my other attempts at some form of online creative outlet.
Substack definitely went that way for me. Constant comparison with famous (or at least well respected) accounts that would constantly tell you how easy it was to make an income here. Panic as all my favourite accounts would suddenly announce a paywall, whether I should be doing this too, and whether I can afford to keep subscribing to everyone. And finally, obsessing over those squiggly lines and arrows on my Substack dashboard to tell me that not even half of my subscribers even opened my latest letter so why are you here?
When I tie myself in knots trying to write or create things that I enjoy making while also making sure it satisfies the algorithm gods I find the easiest way to deal with it is to stick my middle finger up at them and delete the apps entirely. Similarly, if I begin a new hobby and I learn after two attempts that I’m not good enough to turn into a professional skater/miniature artist/knitter/cellist/watercolour artist etc, I will simply give up.
The difference with my garden however is that it’s literally in my own back yard. I can’t turn away from it and pretend I didn’t like it anyway. I’ve either got to take steps to get it back on track or I’ll just have to make my peace with the fact that I ruined my garden with concrete.
When it comes to gardening, I’ve learned since childhood that no one can really be good or bad at gardening. You either garden or you don’t. The garden exists even if you never set foot in it. Of course you can learn skills to do things more efficiently, you can research plants that will work best in that particular soil/light/space but if you don’t plant something there, something else will grow in its place.
Gardening, unlike all my other hobbies, has gone from an interest, to a job, back to an interest again. I don’t claim to be an expert in anything green related (though I appreciate my knowledge is above average perhaps) and I have no desire to set up a YouTube channel of gardening advice. I simply want to tend to my garden and work with the local ecosystem to make as big an impact as possible in my tiny world.
I want my content creation to be like my garden; Messy at times, perhaps sometimes barren, sometimes wild and chaotic, sometimes useful, and sometimes simply aesthetically pleasing.
My new approach to gardening is to try and do 30 mins a day when I’m home during daylight hours. That 30 mins could involve anything from weeding an area, to planting seeds, to cleaning some pots. There will be some sessions where it might look like barely anything happened. Other times it’ll look like a EGS (epic garden sesh!) Little by little I hope I learn to love this space and feel very much the steward of it. I will enjoy seeing the eco system return and enjoy the space as much as I do.
And this is how I’d like to approach my online work too. I don’t want to create in a vacuum, I want an ecosystem of people who like to check in from time to time. But instead of obsessing over having enough interactions each time I write or share a vlog, I can simply look at the little world I’m building and enjoy it, even if it’s just me and the odd bumblebee for a while.
My friend and I have started a Tuesday afternoon writing session (hence my writing today) so when I feel I have something vaguely interesting to say I’ll drop in here and say hello shall I? I hope at least some of this has landed with you, I’d be interested to read if anyone relates to what I’m trying to say anyway.
Take Care
B x