Don’t Worry if Your Motivation is Low Right Now
There may be a dozen reasons; here are two
I have a daily practice of writing and reflection first thing in the morning. I use the first 30 minutes of the day to tune in and listen to myself before engaging with the world. It starts before I even get out of bed. I linger in a dream-like state. Sometimes I’ll even slip back into the dream and keep dreaming from a more lucid place. Over the years, I’ve tracked my dreams and remembered them. I don’t have big insights or memorable dreams every day. But when one is especially vivid, I write it down.
Today I woke feeling very blah. The dream was dull—not memorable—just a sense of drudgery. I’d been walking uphill, and once I reached the top, I was still weighted down. A slog. The high achiever in me really struggles when I’m low on energy. I’d taken a no-tech day to get my hands in the dirt in the garden all day on Saturday, but even that wasn’t enough to shake the fog I’ve been in.
Just as I started contemplating how to shake it off—or succumb to a lack of productivity—I looked down at my phone and saw the events scheduled for today. There it was: a recurring item I’d created a year ago that read, “Don’t worry if low motivation this month.” In the notes of that calendar entry, I’d written: Last year, I had to narrow my focus to the book, and that was it. Motivation for action didn’t happen until March 22 (right after the Spring Equinox).
Seeing this note to my future self brought comfort and relief. I smiled and acknowledged to myself—of course, we’re at the tail end of the Year of the Snake. Which means we’re in the very last shedding of skin, the final letting go, before the new lunar year of the Horse begins to gallop next week. We’re still in winter (in the northern hemisphere), and the spring in my step repeatedly arrives after spring has actually sprung. This doesn’t mean I need to roll over and play dead, but I can soften with self-compassion where I might otherwise bristle against myself for a lack of energy.
This realization helped me stop burning calories worrying about my energy—or the absence of it. It freed me to relax, which actually gave my energy a slight lift and channeled it into these words on the page, for you to read when the time is right. How funny that my winter worrying is so predictable that I once wrote a letter to comfort my future self.
And so I’ll leave you with these three questions for your own reflection:
How much do seasons or life events affect you and the quality of your energy?
When was the last time you wrote a note to your future self?
How often do you offer yourself the comfort or solace you’d normally reserve for someone else?
To shedding old versions ourselves and accepting life when it feels heavy,





Writing a letter for your future self, so simple and yet so powerful. Thank for sharing this practice. Sometimes we forget that seasons are cyclical, so whatever you’re feeling today will be a bit different the next day.