When tomorrow never comes.
“Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is another day with no mistakes in it yet.”
Perhaps my favorite quote of all time by Anne in LM Montgomery’s classic novel Anne of Green Gables, this line has soothed my soul on well more than a thousand moons as I lay in bed at night reflecting before drifting to sleep.
But as nice as it sounded, and as much hope as it did provide every single time I recited it to myself while imagining a beautiful day awaiting me filled with joy and no more tears, a part of my soul sobbed from within. Even years past the turning point in my recovery journey away from various eating disorders that spanned over two decades of my life and no longer afraid of relapse in that sense, there was a sadness that still smudged the images of my tomorrows with tears, sometimes shed and sometimes choked-back and held within, most nights.
By no means was I trying to be pessimistic. But the reality of the trenches I spent much of my life in meant that, without doubt, chances were very very good I would cave in to the habits and make use of the harmful crutches that I used to keep my broken world from crumbling each day and cope the best I knew how. Despite knowing that I was harming myself, until a few years ago I simply didn’t have the tools to get through my days without giving into the grip of anorexia in whatever form she manifested herself in at that stage of my life. And this meant that, hope as I may on the possibilities that tomorrow I would do better, be better, fight harder, or win victory over my struggles once for all, I lacked the courage and wisdom to ever see the gap between my night time Anne quote and my then-reality close even a little.
And it didn’t take long before my daily rituals were so much a part of my life-built in and planned around- that it had become my new “normal”. It’s as if the pages on my diary never changed one to the next.
The thought of a tomorrow with no mistakes in it yet was no longer possible so long as the mistakes were actually planned into my life intentionally. Yet as intentional as they were, I simultaneous felt that I no longer had a say in it.
You’ve likely either said/thought it yourself at some point, or heard others jokingly announce “I’ll start tomorrow”, when proposed a habit to form anew or break, or a new even-somewhat difficult challenge to undertake.
In most of these examples you’ve thought of, and in mine,
tomorrow never came.
And the sobbing within at this recognition that tarnished the image of possibilities that should come with any tomorrow and fresh start was the very desperation I needed to finally make the leap one night late in 2018. So long as my dreaming of a tomorrow with no mistakes in it yet was braided tightly with fear of what that would entail which I wasn’t willing to face, change was impossible.
It’s not fear that takes the possibilities away from our tomorrows… it’s not being willing to face those fears.
If you think about any of the small things you procrastinate from doing, it’s very likely you simply don’t like doing them. But further your self-exploration and consider the bigger feats you drag your feet to start (or finish), and you’ll like recognize an element of anxiety that slips itself into your consciousness.
Perhaps you aren’t sure how to proceed.
Maybe you are afraid it won’t turn out well.
Whatever it is might go against what you think others believe is right.
Or maybe it simply seems downright frightening at even the thought.
Whatever the case, though, if there wasn’t a need or benefit in plowing ahead at some point, or a deep tug on your heart that gripped a focus beneath all attempts to bury it, procrastination wouldn’t even be an issue, for it wouldn’t need to be done at all.
In my post about growing through adversity, and again in one on pain not being the same as harm, I spoke to the maturing that occurs only through the overcoming of obstacles. But if that first step is never taken, a decision never made, and something scary never attempted, progress will never be made. And if you don’t change your now, whatever mistakes or strongholds that ensnared you yesterday will, as surely as the sun comes up in the morning, ensnare you and put mistakes into your tomorrow because:
Now is what will always be between your yesterdays and your tomorrows.
At that turning point several years ago I had to simply “do it afraid”. And keep “doing it afraid” day after day after day, until one day the fear was no longer. Years of waiting for my tomorrow to somehow be different, and soothing myself with the possibilities while simultaneously planning for it to be the same through my resignation, created a cycle of despair and weakening faith that I knew only I could break. There was no other way.
Just as every recognized weakness is a goldmine for becoming a better version of yourself, so should every single tomorrow be a fresh start with no mistakes in it yet. If you are scripting mistakes into tomorrow by not facing your fears today, think about all you are setting yourself to miss out on in the future, and trust that you do have a say in making sure your tomorrow actually comes. The fear will pass… but only if some point actually becomes now, you walk through the fear, and you actually turn the page.
Borrowing from orphan Annie (perhaps without her adorable red hair but with every bit as much hope), and routinely belting out “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow. You’re only a day away,” has replaced my fear about the future just a little tiny bit. Because tomorrow actually did come for me once. And no matter what I’m fighting on any given day, I know that tomorrow can and will come again… because, here and now, I can and will “do it afraid”.
