Summer 2018.
I set the timer for one minute on my phone. The clock started counting down: 00:59, 00:58, 00:57.
I looked up at myself in the mirror. I leaned in really close, like I would if I was plucking my nose hairs or popping a pimple. But I looked slightly up from my usual gaze trajectory, away from criticizing my skin and towards my own eyes. I made eye contact with myself.
“I love you,” I said aloud. The first time I did it, I laughed at the absurdity of it. But I couldn’t deny that I got a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart space when I said those three words out loud to myself in the mirror.
During a heart-to-heart conversation with Terrence about my feelings of unworthiness the week before, he had asked me, “Do you love yourself?”
“No,” I responded, shaking my head.
“Try looking at yourself in the mirror every day naked,” he suggested. “Really admire and appreciate your body for what it is, what it does for you. The muscles, the bones, and the skin, all working together to keep you going. And while you’re at it, make eye contact with yourself in the mirror and say ‘I love you’ until you start to believe it.”
I knew it made me feel good to say nice things to myself, but like many things healthy and good in life (or so it sometimes seems), this practice got pushed to the side and forgotten among the busy rush of life. When I rush from sleep to CrossFit to shower to work in the morning, I just didn’t have time—or the mental space to add that to the list of things to do. Who has time to stop and look in the mirror to say “I love you” and other nice things to themselves every day? Not I. Still, I thought it was a nice idea and kept telling myself, “I should really do that more often.”
December 2019.
Fast forward to the end of 2019. I was thinking about my New Year’s Resolution for 2020. I already knew I wanted to try being vegan for the year. But there were so many other things I wanted to do as well! Keep a budget. Give up alcohol. Meditate. Write down my gratitudes. If I did all of them, I wouldn’t have time for work! (Note to self: when you retire, do ALL of the things you always want to do.) Talking among some friends and partners, I got the idea to do 12 New Year’s Resolutions throughout the year, doing a new one each month. Brai had also inspired me during 2019 when they were doing different "moon challenges" during the phases of the moon, such as giving up refined sugar and wearing blue light blocking sunglasses in the evenings. In true Tynen fashion, I made a Google doc.
In the end, the list numbered over 60 things I wanted to do as monthly challenges: creative writing in the morning, stretch for 5 minutes, keep a journal, read for 15 minutes, do 10 minutes of yoga...the list went on and on. (When I decide I want to do something, I go HARD in the paint. Some people call it being “open to trying new things.” Some people call it dogmatic. Some people call it passionately stubborn. I prefer the terms “adventurous and a little crazy.”)
“One minute of positive affirmations in the mirror,” I wrote on the list as one of the challenges.
“One at a time,” I told myself.
So I started going down the list in January 2020, when I kept track of all my spending. In February 2020, I gave up alcohol for the month. In March 2020, I did 5 minutes of creative writing each morning. I’ve had a lot of interesting experiences, so I decided to do a blog series about some of my experiences doing these challenges over the past year and a half. And here we are.
March 2021.
I never did get around to the positive affirmation challenge in 2020. But fast forward to March 2021. I was living alone in Prague during COVID lockdown and writing a book about genocide in China. I needed those affirmations and I needed them bad. Enter the “one minute of positive affirmations in the mirror” challenge.
In the morning, my hair sticking up in countless directions, my cowlick in the back sticking up like TV antennas on the back of my head, my eyes sleepy and dry, crusted with sleepy sand, my joints achy and my muscles tight, I would hold the sides of the sink and lean in to my bathroom mirror. My throat dry and my mouth chalky from morning breath, I would look at myself in the mirror. Most days that month, every fiber of my being told me, “This is too hard. You should just give up.” I felt unworthy and stupid, tired and defeated. I would stand there gripping the edges of the sink and remember my goddamn 30-day challenge. I would look up from the sink crusted with old toothpaste from the night before and make eye contact with myself.
Alone in my studio apartment where no one else could hear or judge me, I would say out loud, “Saar, you GOT this. I know it’s hard, I know it sucks right now. But you are smart and capable and strong. You have good ideas. Your research, your words, your experiences are of value to this world and to the Uyghur people. You have something of value to say. You are a good story teller and a gifted writer. You can do this. I love you.” The timer on my phone would go off and I would continue about the rest of my day.
That got me through some really dark times when I honestly just wanted to give up on everything altogether.
Sometimes I would forget in the morning. In the middle of the day, I would stand up from my computer, put on my mask, go to the kitchen, find the key to the bathroom, walk down the hall to the physics department across the way (yes, going to the bathroom was a bit of a production), and take a couple minutes' break from writing to pee and wash my wands. Looking up at myself in the mirror, I would say, “Saar, you are creative. You are a good writer. Your research matters.” I would go back to my office and continue writing.
Sometimes I would come back home from the office, exhausted and stiff from a 12-hour day sitting at my computer. I would look up at the bathroom mirror and see my tired eyes and dark circles and bags under my eyes. Then I would look just ½ inch upwards, into my own blue-gray eyes and say, “You GOT this. Only a few more weeks/days left. I love you.”
And I did that every single day for 30 days.
By March 29th, I’d finished the first full complete draft of my book, no less than 100,000 words and 323 pages. On March 30th, my 32nd birthday, I rested.
Why 30-Day Challenges?
Some people think I’m too rigid with schedules and too hard on myself. I have gotten so much criticism from people who think that I don’t give myself enough days off or that I’m too dogmatic, stubborn or inflexible about rules. People say I'm too strict with the plans and boundaries I put on myself. I understand their feedback. But when it came to this challenge in particular, I’m so grateful for my ability to stick to routines and schedules. I’m grateful to myself for my 30-day challenges like this one that force myself to do something I wouldn’t normally do in my everyday routine.
At the end of 2020, being vegan for the whole year was the first time in my life I had actually stuck with a New Year’s Resolution for the whole year. In the meantime, I had a list of 30-day challenges that I had tried throughout the year. For me, trying something for 30 days is a lot more manageable than 365. It’s a mental thing, but in this high stress world, who has the emotional space for ALL OF THE HEALTHY THINGS. Nobody. So I just do one thing a day to make my world just a little brighter.
I still have that Google doc and I'm still making my way through the ever-growing list which is now called "Potential 30-Day Challenges for 2021." I hope you join me on this blog post journey about some of those things and try some of them yourself.
In the next several series of blog posts, I’ll continue to write about 30-day challenges that I’ve learned from. I invite you to think (and DO) some of your own challenges, or else think of ways your life might benefit from little changes you can make throughout your day.
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