Category Archives: On Motivation

On Motivation

Happiness Is…

Most people who know me (and, at this juncture, many people who don’t know me at all) have an inkling that I’ve got a lot of love for Instagram.

Getting my first touch-screen phone with a passable camera (which only happened last September – judge away!) made it possible for me jump on the bandwagon, and I’ve been a happy addict ever since. During a darkish time, it motivated me to find a bit of beauty in every single day – it got me outdoors in search of moments I didn’t just want to memorise, but play with and publish with a line that would remind me of what it really looked like, how it really felt.

Social media sometimes gets a bad rap. We’re saturated with images, memes, gifs… smart-ass comments, shares and over-shares… But you can’t deny that amongst the plethora of posts out there, some can be provoking. Some can be show-stopping. Some can reach out a hand and hold your heart, even lift it, spiral it to new heights.

Often, I’m in search of a smile. Often, I have one person in mind in whom I think a post might provoke that delightful lilt to the lips. And that makes sharing worth it for me. It’s not about courting your envy or inspiring your awe – it’s about inviting you in. It’s me shouting a greeting: I wish you were here. It’s beautiful. I wish you could see what I see.

So, since I’m back sharing here, I thought I’d invite you to smile at a recent, in-progress Instagram series of mine: Happiness is…

One thing to note: They’re not really pictures of snowboarders or mountains or lakes I’ve seen or book I’ve written. They are posts about passion. Whether with words or phone-photography, I’d love to provoke someone somewhere to find a moment of passionate engagement with something, with anything. A moment that makes them pause, that makes them smile, that makes them think: Happiness is… this.

Happiness is: Snow, sunshine, stories, and overhearing conversations that make you smile

Happiness is: Driving leisurely, singing loudly, pausing frequently.. because it’s so damn beautiful turning corners is a hazard

Happiness is: Crashing a roadtrip to ride new snow

Happiness is: Playing out of bounds

Happiness is: When you make the mountain your office and your snowboard your escape

Happiness is: Being published. Won’t ever get bored of seeing my novel on a bookshop shelf 🙂

Happiness is: When the cloud clears, and you remember you can fly

Happiness is: Snowboard on, earphones in, hangover gone

Happiness is: Riding to the beat of your racing heart

What is your happiness? Where is your happiness? Find it; treasure it; share it.

Follow me on Instagram: Sara Litchfield

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What To Do When It’s Impossible To Park

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I’ve not felt like I’ve been very inspirational or motivational here lately, mostly because I’ve been struggling with finding inspiration and motivation for myself. Since being stirred up by compassion posts for #1000Speak, I’ve mostly floundered finding something meaningful to say. And my latest manuscript has been moulding.

But today I woke up feeling different to the new normal (partly due to the cold – winter is coming (and, on a tangent, DRAGONS – bring it on GoT! (Gosh it’s been a long time since I parenthesised in parentheses))… but partly something else). Still with me? Good.

I’ve been waiting for it – a turn, a switch, a flip. I knew it was coming. Week by week since The Return, I have felt better. There have been smiles & laughs amidst the crash landings; I’ve found my feet amongst old and new friends; I’ve taken up old and new tasks. There have been challenges around the setbacks – but overall, an upward curve that’s becoming a grin. Heartbreak’s a bitch, but what kind of writer could I be without being eviscerated once in a while? And if you’re never brought low, how will you know how good it is to fly high?

I have a million things to do, so I’ve been writing and re-writing lists rather than achieving much of any of them. I’ve fire-fought – dealing with the urgent tasks and letting the important-but-not-immediate ones slide into the next day’s list – Future-Sara’s issue. I have been kinder to myself when it comes to time and goals. And I have thanked my lucky stars for my friends and for my resilient sense of humour, which between them have softened several assaults on my recovering sunny nature with their sense of the ridiculous.

One wee issue I’ve been wrestling is my faithless steed, Imp Lannister. Many of you will know by now that, much like my love for people, my love for inanimate objects can know no bounds. Take Bella (“I neglected to realise that while living in her would be a dream, getting anywhere would be a nightmare”), Enid (“Life always throws a herd of cows in your way when you want to get somewhere”) & Nicki (“A teddy bear can be so much more than a possession”), for example.

I adore The Imp, and it breaks my heart that he’s on his way out. But I still have him on the road at the moment. And the roads are busy. It’s often a nightmare finding somewhere to park – sometimes plain impossible.

Life can be like finding a parking space. A massive pain. You can sometimes be over-ambitious or under-discerning, attempting to fit into a gap where you just won’t fit, whether due to the lack of space, your lack of spatial awareness, or your pure inability to parallel park. This can lead, at best, to jokes, jeers and jibes, at worst, to bumps, bruises and insurance claims.

You can find yourself circling the same spot, the same taken spaces, close to your destination, hoping for an opening, feeling frustrated. You can curse those who take the places you were aiming for, nipping in before you.

Or… you can go a bit farther afield and make peace with a longer walk to where you want to be. You can practise patience. You can understand that if you don’t give up, you’ll find somewhere eventually.

At the beginning of the year, I was turning in frustrated circles, cursing people stealing my parking spaces but obstinately refusing to change tack and make life easier for myself. I was wasting time. Now, I’ve realised I needed to keep driving. I’ve woken up more willing to walk a little to make it work. Even uphill.

Anyhow, in a week, I’m moving into town from the ranch, where I will retire my wheels and learn to use my legs again (Yes. I am moving. Again.). Life is a lot like walking – but that’s a story for another day…

Who hates parking? Who has felt that turn – that twist that’s like coming back to Spring?

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Don’t Forget To Feel Alive

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Sunrise over Arrowtown

What a week it was. Partner-in-crime’s birthday was Wednesday. Tuesday night, friends gathered for dinner & drinks. I had a lovely Skype catch-up with an editor friend before joining the crowd. On the one hand, I was designated-drivering but, on the other, I had fried chicken, so overall I was winning. Fun times. Then a new arrival said something that spun me about a bit. “Wow, Sara doesn’t look stressed!”

Now, I’d had a haircut. And this party-time – Tue night & Wed day – had been locked in the diary as un-negotiably non-work time, so I was pretty relaxed. But this gave me pause.

I’ve been trying for a while now to cultivate a blog full of hope & happiness, living a life full of the same. Obviously, all sorts of anti-fun things happen – but it’s generally possible to put a positive spin on them and find the silver-lining. At the same time, I’ve been building up an editing business, going through the publishing process (don’t talk to me about rewrites right now), holding down an accounting job while freelance accounting for a fish&chip shop and a charitable trust on the side, and participating in two writers’ groups. And moving house several times. I’ve had to forgo the badminton season this year but am still hoping to get some snowboarding in before a trip back to the UK in August.

In summary, I’ve been busy. And, even though I know that I procrastinate, and I know that there are days I’m not as productive as I should be, and that there are days when I’m not creative in the slightest, and that I’m envious of about a hundred other people who seem to be perfectly simultaneously juggling and balancing a hundred successful plates at the same time (as well as having a family to feed for gad’s sake!)… I find myself thinking about work/WIP. all. the. time. I fear that I’m getting a reputation as ‘the one who only works.’ This is distressing to someone once known as ‘the one who is always out.’ I suffered enduring FOMO back in my city days and never missed anything that might be remotely *fun* (or even a second cousin to fun. Twice removed).

I’m definitely living a more staid life. Apart from anything else, I lost the ability to cope with a hangover somewhere between Asia & Australia. But, however much work I’m doing, however ambitious I’m being – I’m still having fun.

Last weekend, I went up to Auckland for a reunion with some school-mates and we watched England lose to the All Blacks at Eden Park. I got to have the teeny-tiny donuts I’ve missed since the world cup.

On Wednesday, I skydived from 15,000 feet, free falling for 60 glorious seconds that felt like forever. It was beautiful up there. I sprung the jump on partner-in-crime as a surprise birthday present with great success, getting right to the drop zone before he suspected.

We then went to the birdlife conservation park and met kiwis for the first time. I’ve been desperate to see them in the wild, but it’s not that easy. Fun fact – they are the only bird that have evolved to have their nostrils at the tip of their beak rather than the base. They also mate for life, which pleases me.

On Saturday, I got up at a quarter to five. In the *morning* (it actually wasn’t my idea). We hiked up a mountain in the dark with our housemate to watch the sun rise (it did). And it was heart-stoppingly stunning. It made me happy to be exactly where I am, doing everything I’m doing. Like all of the above, it made me feel alive. And happy to be so.

Are you a recovering FOMO-fiend? Do you find work / your current projects overwhelming your life sometimes? Don’t forget to feel alive. No time is wasted time if you’re doing something that brings a smile to your or someone else’s face.

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Finding My Muse Rather Than Finding Excuses

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‘The dog ate my homework’

– Unknown

This time, let’s start with a question – who first claimed that their dog ate their homework? And who among you has ever claimed the equivalent? The saying sure caught on and is still a lot catchier than, ‘My computer didn’t save it, even though I pressed save, and backed up, and emailed it to myself, and threw my computer out the window‘ (we’ve all been there?!). Wikipedia calls it the ‘sine qua non of dubious excuses,’ which I enjoy, because what’s not to like about a bit of Latin?

Anyway, I’ve become increasingly aware this week that I’ve signed up to write 60,000 words in a month, completing the first draft of a novel in November, which is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). More and more of my favourite blogs have been offering up tips and treats – plotting techniques, craft lessons, general approaches – the theme of which, I think, is the unsubtle warning: Fail to plan and plan to fail.

I like writing lists and crossing things off them. I often do that nifty trick where you add items onto your list that you’ve already done, just so you can cross them off (who exactly am I kidding? Only I read the lists!). I’m a spontaneous person, mostly, and I’ve definitely not done enough planning since signing up in order to face Friday 1st with joyful anticipation rather than abject terror. I do intend to rectify this situation on Thursday 31st (if you leave things to the last minute, they only take a minute!). However, I already find myself presenting myself with excuses for failure – not only my failure to plan but also my failure to succeed in something I haven’t even started yet. It’s been a black October, but there really is no excuse worthy of allowing myself the indulgence of excusing myself. It’s as much an indulgence as creating chores I can complete in a minute so I can cross them off a list and feel like I’ve done something today.

I’m amazing at articulating excuses. I have a sheaf of them for every bad thing that’s happened since, well, ever. I’m constantly vindicating myself and seeking vindication from others involved. I then tell 10 people who aren’t even remotely interested and try get vindication from them as well (witness my last post!). This is because nothing is ever my fault. The dog ate my homework. I had no control over this dog. I deserve pity, not blame.

But for NaNo, I need to buck up my ideas. And saying that, I really ought to buck them up across the board. NaNo is like any challenge that needs facing or problem that needs fixing. Excuses won’t help change anything, only action will. Effective action is boosted by help, support, guidance and advice. Well, I have a whole inbox of that for NaNo – it’s time to take some of that advice and see what works for me (better late than never); make more time (my go-to excuse is not having time); find my Muse (she’s been reported missing, I need to stop finding all those excuses and find her instead); and get the job done. Oh, and enjoy it.

‘There’s no time‘ is probably my favourite excuse. Let’s rearrange some things and find some time hiding under the sofa cushions (that’s hopefully where my Muse is hiding out, keeping Time company). Let’s also find some better words: There’s no time like the present; there’s no time for excuses; and there’s no time to lose! Who’s with me?!

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Fishing & Wishing

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‘If wishes were fishes, there’d be no room in the river for water’

– Russian Proverb

I’m very much looking forward to the forthcoming fishing season over here. Winter is drawing to a close and the promise beckons of longer days and sunny weekends away. I’ll miss the snow and be sad to be putting aside my board and boots… But I’m happy to be picking up a rod and net in the near future. I experienced my first fishing season and took on the role of Fishing Support last summer, pattering around after my partner in brine. I enjoyed freshly-caught and campfire-cooked salmon and trout in reward for perching peacefully in spots including those pictured above, a book in one hand and a net in the other, poised for action. I found fishing surprisingly exciting and deliciously rewarding last season, I’m eager for more of the same.

And now for the metaphors. There were many days we fished away, only to come back with nothing – lost lures and broken lines the only achievements. There were other days we made the catch, only for the critter to get away. On each and every day, there was little point standing still, hoping for a nibble. It was necessary to cast and recast; wander and reposition; cast and recast. There was actually much more movement involved than I had anticipated, which meant, along the way, I discovered beautiful places I would otherwise never have seen. And such is life. Wishes are like fishes and if we hope for a wish to come true, we need to be moving; casting and recasting; not giving up, regardless of the lost lines and the fish that got away. We won’t always come away empty-handed if we persevere.

A wish is a hope. A hope is a dream. A dream is a possibility. It’s possible because you’ve imagined it. What do you wish for? Don’t just wish for a fish – go fish for it.

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Fear & Coasting

How To Lose A Lasagne & The Art Of Winning

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‘If at first you don’t succeed…’

– Thomas H. Palmer

I was never much of a cook – I lacked the patience when younger to learn from my epic Chinese MasterChef of a mother and, when I was older, lacked the time to cook in and audience to cook for, except occasionally. I cook all the time these days and I like to think I’ve mastered some dishes. Lasagne’s not been one of them, though – something always goes wrong. It’s usually the cheese sauce. But, today, everything went perfectly – the sauces, the layering, the cheese top. I was pretty excited when I placed the above in the oven. I then burnt my fingers on its way in and dropped the whole thing.

It hadn’t been my favourite Monday and, having spent money and time preparing the pesky thing, I admit to getting momentarily tearful over this travesty. I had to remove my rings due to my first (/fifth) degree burns and had to scape the remnants of lasagne from the oven door. All those layers lost. Hunger, however, dictated that we patch the mess back into the dish and put it in to bake.

The above is a prime example of ‘first world problems’ and a loss of perspective. Also, a lack of learning – I’d badly burnt my hand placing a roast in a couple of weeks before. Anyway, dinner ended up tasting pretty good. One day, though, I’ll defeat lasagne – which brings me to the art of winning. At least I’m trying. That’s how you end up winning in the end.

I do feel the pinch of jealousy when someone achieves something I long for. I’ve connected with many bestselling and award-winning authors recently and I hunger for their success. You can’t win, however, if you don’t compete. You learn by doing. Sometimes, by failing. One day, I’ll write a brilliant book that you’ll all want to read and, one day, I’ll make the perfect lasagne that you’ll wish you could eat. Neither would be the same as they will be without the practice and the patience that will have gone before.

So, in summary (and a collection of cliches), you’ve got to be in it to win it; risk it to get the biscuit; start in order to finish. You might make a bit of a mess on the way, but it can still taste good, and winning will be worth it. What do you want to win? And when are you going to enter?

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