Consistently Inconsistent

I’ve read a ton of books on self-improvement over the years. The thing they all have in common is the notion that “consistency is key.” If you hope to accomplish anything in life, you have to dedicate yourself every day to the task at hand. Consistency is for masters of their craft, for the pros.

Well, I’ve tried and failed at maintaining this level of consistency my entire life. When I would fall short of this ideal, I felt like a failure. I feared I was falling behind in my creative practice. I would work on things in fits and cycles. My energy and motivation would ebb and flow. No matter how strongly I started or how many tiny habits I made, I just couldn’t stick to a routine for very long.

Even enjoyable activities became a burden as soon as I attached this expectation to them—exercise routines, new healthy habits, hobbies. They all fell short. I would beat myself up over my lack of discipline and then try to find new ways to reinvigorate my resolve. The thought of starting over was daunting. Each time, I felt like I was starting from scratch.

In January 2022, I began painting again after a long break. I decided to start with a tiny canvas, only 4x4 inches, so that I could finish in one sitting. At first, my ambitions were high. I hoped to complete one small painting daily, inspired by the countless 100-day art challenges on social media. I soon realized that one or two paintings a week were enough of a challenge for me.

Life has a way of breaking your most well-thought-out plans. Summer came and went, and while I was still painting, it started to become less frequent—first once a week, then once a month. I was trying to fit it in around a busy full-time job, dealing with health issues, taking care of my relationships, my pets, my home, and cleaning up a piece of property with my husband on the weekends. Once again, I thought I had failed myself. I was burning out and boring myself by trying to produce and maintain this perfect routine.

Fast forward to December 2024. While organizing my office/art space, I uncovered my old artwork from high school and college. I laid it out on my floor. Then I took all of my artwork that I had created over the last three years and laid that out on the floor. I sat in the middle of this chaotic pile of artwork for some time. I couldn’t believe how many pieces I had created and forgotten.

I realized that I had created all this wonderful art despite my lack of consistency. I felt like I was starting over each time, but I was not starting from the beginning. I was starting from a new place, a more informed and inspired place.

Society has a way of pushing us to produce and behave like machines—consistently churning out content, ignoring the signals from our bodies for rest, until we end up burnt out and depressed. I realized that I was going against my very nature in my efforts to remain perfectly consistent. I wanted to break free from the expectation that my worth is tied to how much I can produce. I no longer wanted to ignore my body’s needs.

So lately, I’ve been practicing loosening my routines and letting my natural energy and curiosity inform my days. Some days I prioritize movement, and other days my creative pursuits. If I take a long break from something, I come back to it with a refreshed sense of purpose and motivation.

Now I believe that you can still make progress toward your goals and accomplish great things, even if you don’t dedicate time to them every day. It’s in the living, the moments of rest and reflection, that you gather inspiration for the creations of your life. It’s not consistency that matters—it’s about not giving up. Take a break, rework the plan, try something new, but never give up on the things that matter to you. Embrace the seasons of life, and stay consistently inconsistent.