More than half, maybe as much as two-thirds of my life as a writer, is rewriting. I wouldn’t say I have a talent that’s special. It strikes me that I have an unusual kind of
stamina.”                           
– – – John Irving

 

When I was writing my first book, “Awakening the Healer Within,” in the late 1980’s, I had never written a book before and I didn’t know if I had enough stamina to make it all the way to the end. I thought about what it took to keep on going when I traveled with my ballet
company. I showed up every day for class and rehearsals and several times a year, we went on ten-week one-night-stand bus tours to perform across the country. It was brutal. This was an average day:

We piled onto a bus early in the morning with assigned seats according to a hierarchy – the principle dancers and soloists sat at the front and middle of the bus and the corps de ballet sat at the back. I was sixteen, a brand new member of the corps de ballet, and my seat was positioned over a tire, as I bumped my way along. We stayed at NO star hotels and motels, the food we found was barely edible, we performed each evening, we crashed in a lumpy bed, got up in the morning, got back on the bus and we were on to the next city.

About three weeks into a tour, I thought, “I can’t do this for one more day.” But I boarded the bus and tried to sleep as we headed to the next town. I reminded myself that I was not a victim, that I had chosen this. I was a cog in a finely tuned wheel and I had a
responsibility toward my choreographers and my fellow dancers. Stopping was not an option. Neither was slowing down. I had to keep on going.

After I hung up my pointe shoes and entered the world at large, I found that I could use that same stamina wherever and whenever I needed it. Today, it shows up each time I sit down to write or do a workout or take a long walk. Depending on the task, I may or may not be responsible toward someone else, but I’m always responsible to myself to continue on the journey and see it through to the end.

When I think of staying power, I want to differentiate between moving steadily toward a goal and pushing yourself so hard, you feel like quitting and you usually do. When my writing students are having trouble getting to work, I suggest they schedule writing sessions in their calendar like a doctor’s appointment and show up. I guide them to avoid unrealistic expectations. If they treat themselves gently and write for short periods of time at first, they usually find a way to keep on going and expand their sessions. But if they try to go from zero to writing for two hours every day, it’ll be a miracle if they do it. They won’t be able to keep on going.

A few years ago, I made a commitment to myself to post a blog on Substack every week. I wondered how long I would keep it up. It took discipline at first but once I’d built the stamina to keep going, it became something that I just did. When I started writing today, I saw that it was Blog #367. What? I missed only one week when I was sick and I marveled at how I’ve continuously found enough perseverance to keep on doing it. What on earth did I still have to say? I don’t know, but I just keep coming up with things. It doesn’t always come easy. Sometimes I have two or three false starts. Sometimes I think of skipping a week, but I gradually call on my hard
earned stick-to-itiveness to keep trying. As a result, it’s become a soothing balm to me. I turn to it for solace. It’s become my meditation, something familiar and comforting. A way to reach my fellow travelers and look in on myself to see what’s going on.

It’s important to remember that stamina doesn’t show up because you want it to. You build it slowly over time with concentration and repetition. Brick by brick. Stroke by stroke. Olympic champion, Michael Phelps, says that he doesn’t necessarily see himself as better than anyone else. But he trains harder than anyone else, for 5 to 6 hours a day, seven days a week. That’s how he wins. He said, “I’m a finely tuned swimming machine, programmed to swim, win gold and repeat. I’ve got the stamina. I can close.”

Endurance. Resilience. Fortitude. Perseverance. Staying power. These are all elements of stamina and none of them come easy. We have to work for them, step by step, but they improve the quality
of our lives so much, it’s worth the time and effort to make them strong and available. They help us avoid curling up into a ball in the middle of the floor and melting down.

During this election year, it takes stamina to face each day and it’s no easy process. It hurts, it exhausts, it takes discipline and encouragement and compassion toward ourselves. In my case,
it’s about strengthening my resolve to turn away from the nonsense and disengage when I need to. I remind myself that I don’t have to stay glued to the television to stay connected to the world. I don’t have to watch repetitive “breaking news.” The only thing breaking is me. If the sky is falling, someone with a stronger constitution than mine will call and fill me in.

Whomever we are and whatever we’re doing, building stamina challenges us to persevere, to learn the truth about our limitations and how to steadily inch our way beyond them. It reminds us that when we reach the end of the line, when we think we’ve gone as far as we can go, we can do a little bit more. And a little bit more.

Inspirational poet, Kahlil Gibran wrote, “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls: the most massive
characters are seared with scars.”