It's been a quiet week; quiet for me anyways. I've had all the time in the world to do what I had planned to do when I quit my job--write and think. The silence is deafening, terrifying.
I woke up in the morning, read email, went to Starbucks to work on an essay, came home, heated up soup, looked at my calendar, and then it hit me. My usual list of people to "ping" was empty. Was this a mistake? I checked the batteries on my PDA.
Nope, still working. Maybe, I thought, today is a holiday.
The b-friend was in the other room. His grad program is on spring break. I can hear Rocky IV in my living room.
"Yo Adrian!" b-friend yells. "You're missing me cwush da Russian!"
"I'm not coming out there, you hear me! I'm working!"
"Wanna go to Costco?"
"It's business hours!"
My mother called, and we had a very PRODUCTIVE conversation, just so you know. She lamented that, with one week left at her job she's feeling a bit blue.
She's not sure what she wants to do with herself; she certainly doesn't want to start looking for another job right away.
"Mom, you've been looking forward to this," I tell her.
"I know! I don't know what's wrong with me!"
"I think I understand, Mom. You are afraid of all that will be expected of you now that you are not officially 'working'. Is that it?"
"Oh, Jor! I just don't ... I just don't want to clean this house!"
Yep. I knew it. My mother equates looking busy with keeping the house clean. But her kids are grown now, and, pushing 60, the thought of hovering over the toilet with a scrub brush is daunting. I noticed the level of dust in my Mom's house increased when she went back to work. But the woman was at work all day, who was going to argue!
I feel a similar pressure of expectation, but in a different area--my calendar. I'm what you call an extrovert, more accurately an extrovert to a point, then I want to be left alone to think and create, maybe sleep. And when you give me what I ask for, then I'm an extrovert again, by means of guilt, wondering if I scared everyone off. I wonder what that makes me on the Meyers-Briggs?
We're groomed to believe that we are supposed to be busy, or at least to look busy. Some people collect Bentleys those of us who are less fortunate collect meetings, appointments, places we need to be as a means of defining our status. Companies push the work ethic to the hilt by insisting not only that people be busy all of the time, but by insisting that new products, press releases, events, stuff be thrown at the public all of the time, lest the company itself not be seen as productive. Needless to say, the product suffers.
Imagine if the TV networks said, "Nope, no new stuff this season. The stuff we have just isn't very GOOD; it's not ready for broadcasting, so we'll hold off on pushing any more shlock on you for now." Or imagine if all blue ketchup was pulled from the grocery store shelves with a note from the manufacturer: "Yeah, sorry about the empty space. We just realized what a stupid idea this was. We'll get back to you when we have a salable product concept..."
Of course not. Even if you don't have a good idea to pitch, a good product to push, you are expected to have something to throw out there. On a much more micro level, this pressure is felt by the 1099s. We don't have pointless meetings to attend, or company retreats to fill our calendars. We don't feel useful unless we are PRODUCING something.
Many of us leave the corporate world to escape the feeling of losing control of our schedules without considering that, once we have ample time, we may not have enough quality content to fill it. And if we do, we are still working with those who still have no control of their time (typically these people are not self-employed; let's call them W2s for the sake of simplicity).
There are a number of pseudoprojects I'm working on now (projects that are very exciting, but not yet funded or put on everyone's priority list). I, the 1099, have tried to get a handle on these projects, schedule planning meetings, make the damn things happen, but W2s don't have time for pie-in-the-sky stuff; nor are they particularly motivated to care. I'm forced to be the driver, or, as the case is here, the waiter. And I'm an impatient woman; it's never been one of my virtues.
My mother doesn't want to dwell on her issues: "So how are YOU doing today?" she says.
"Horrible."
"Why? Goodness what's wrong?"
"Nothing. That's just it."
"You know, you get like this when you're not running around frantically."
"Yes."
"You need to ride the wave."
"Or ride the stillness, as the case may be." This seemed impossible; it wasn't feasible, walking on water. If I didn't flap my wings like a mad bird I would sink. I much preferred sitting on rapids and seeing where I would be thrown.
"Things need time to percolate," Mom said.
"You sure? I keep thinking I need to throw more grounds into the machine."
"You'll just end up with a lot of bad coffee, hun."
Bad analogies aside, she's right. There have been times when all I've done is overdo, push to an unhealthy limit, make things that were perfect imperfect because I was bored, or afraid of sinking. I took a project management class once, thinking it would enhance my skills of making things happen. At the time I was very successful knocking off the tasks on my to-do list, and on everyone else's, but the big-picture projects, the ones that were truly revolutionary, didn't ever come to fruition. A few weeks into the course I was given a pet name, Mac Truck, to describe my management style; I don't think it was a good thing. Mac Trucks don't exactly get things done subtly. They are loud and have obnoxious horns. They manage to get everything out of their way, but the muddy folks on the sidelines get mighty pissed in the process.
I realize there is something paradoxical about insisting on constant activity and definitive outcomes while I pursue a reflective, creative path way off-road, impossible for a Mac Truck to navigate. Evelyn Rodriguez's post this week about not pushing for conclusions is very timely.
"It's a time to luxuriate in being a sponge: soak up inspiration and information and follow your intuition down new paths (hopefully from unlikely sources) of inspiration and information.
Don't pin down answers yet. Stay open to coming up with good questions and remaining curious above all else. Listen. Listen. Listen."
All of this requires a non-work ethic, one counterintuitive to the one I've been cultivating for 20+ years. The secret, I imagine, is finding a balance between working with intention and allowing the uncontrollable to work in my favor.
I'm tired today of reading, writing, and talking about not being busy. I plop down on the couch and watch TV with the b-friend, who is notorious for channel surfing (An aside: I propose a game show for people like him called, "Name that Show." He can usually determine what's on TV, and whether it's worth watching, in two frames or less.)
"Stop surfing and stay put!" I say, taking the remote out of his hands. Then I do my own slower, less violence-loving version of channel surfing. I see girls competing in model competitions, living in a house with ten other hopefuls, following their dreams. I see people on the news who bothered to get dressed and come to work, and people profiled on the news who bothered to get out of the house to rob others. Michael Jackson couldn't get out of his pajamas, but I see he's at least made an EFFORT to get out of the house.
I look down at my cat, Ginger, and ask, "Have you got what it takes? Look at you! What would you be without me to pick you up and pet you? You'd be back on the couch, on your cat cushion, or lying on the bed. You don't even TRY to make anything happen. You expect it all to COME TO YOU! ... Where are you going? Come back here!"
Even Ginger can't take it any longer when I'm like this. I take the hint.
I turn to the b-friend, "I can't take this any longer! Get up. Get dressed: We're going out!"
"Where are we going?" he says.
"Out!" I say. "And bring the Costco card."
"Yo Aaadrian (slurred, as if with a broken jaw)! If I's can change...and you's can change...we's all can change!"
(Rocky b-friend Balboa)
Posted by: b-friend | March 25, 2005 at 12:04 AM
This was a great article. You really captured the internal battle many new entrepeneur's (1099's) go through. I can really relate to many of the things you said in the article - the feelings of wanting to be more productive and less of a "time slot filler." Thanks for sharing this piece of your life with the world. I will be posting it on two of my blogs.
Posted by: Scott | March 25, 2005 at 07:18 AM
I suppose I am one of the few W2s that, while leading the typical W2 busy lifestyle, also regularly has an abundance of scheduled free time. Maybe I'm insane, but I always try to do my busy work ASAP so I can properly enjoy my free time. By enjoy my free time I mean do NOTHING. That's right, I even sacrifice sleep some days to make sure I get my errands done in a timely enough manner to get all of my nothing in. I would go so far to say that if I didn't get my weekly dose of nothing there would be a noticeable increase in battery and homicide occurences in my neighborhood. Jory you must enjoy the nothing, nay, EMBRACE the nothing. Overcoming your fear of nothing can only increase your appreciation for its dreaded enemy...everything.
JoeBro
Posted by: Joe D | March 25, 2005 at 07:11 PM
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