A very good friend called me on Sunday; she wondered how I was doing. I had just been to her wedding—the first of six in our wedding season—and wondered why she’d asked: I’d just seen her three weeks ago and had attended her bachelorette party.
But then I thought about it: I had showed up to her bachelorette late since I was on a work deadline; I joined her and her girlfriends for a quick bite and then left early, as I had to get up early the next morning (a Sunday) to report on a story. I went to the wedding, but didn’t really get a chance to catch up with her; b-friend and I had to leave for a party someone at his work was having. I’d promised b-friend we could go, since I’d been unavailable every weekend up to that point.
I’d become one of those people whose philosophy on quality time is “catch as catch can,” who slips in and out of special events as it befits her schedule, who you invite but don’t really expect to show. The kind of person who you wonder if she’s really having a good time or if she’s planning in her head what else she should be doing and silently ticking off the minutes of obligatory face time she’s put in. I’d become elusive and seemingly glamorous, but untrustworthy. I’d become a Slippery Person.
I suddenly got a very precarious feeling of someone who has cashed in nearly all of her excuses. I’d used deadlines, work, launches like they were get out of jail free cards, allowing me to pass through parties, weddings, events with some regal, unquestionable higher purpose. I realized my friend was calling me on my bullshit.
“I’m glad you called,” I said, remembering how much I enjoyed chatting with her, despite the growing physical distance between us. We’d both moved out of the city, and while I live right across the Bay, she’d gone further into Suburbia—a place that elicited eyeball rolling in our shared social circle but that we unquestionably gravitated towards to buy property.
“What the hell are you up to?” she said. “Am I hearing this right, you are back working on your own? I want to hear it from you!”
We’d met as soloists—her choice was more deliberate, however, as I had fallen into solohood when the company I’d worked for went under and I couldn’t imagine what else I wanted to do other than think. My newly married friend had been a life coach—a very successful one. I was exploring the field and wanting to learn more about it from a pro--and this woman was the consummate pro. All of the places coaches advertised, all of the coveted speaking engagements they tried to get for exposure, all of the top trade association leadership roles, she’d achieved at some point. And yet, several years ago she decided to return to a sales training job—the only place she could think of where she could kinda sorta use the unique talents she was free to use as a soloist, but that, when she was free to use them, weren’t enough.
“It’s strange,” she said. “Even when I had clients booked for six months out I worried about how I’d make money. I couldn’t stop working. I burned myself out.”
She ended up quitting that job and took another corporate job with a training company. She’s not running the show, but, she says, at least she can put her work down to focus on her new husband, her new home, her friends.
“You must be made of different stuff,” she said. “You can live in uncertainty.”
If only she knew. I suppose I can make a living in uncertainty, but live? The jury’s still out on that one. The irony of my decision to go solo is that I decided to do so, in large part, to clear more time for a life—to blog, to read and absorb books and articles that were important to me, to cultivate creativity, to visit with my family more than once a year, to offer to cook dinner once in a while, to take walks in the middle of the day, to catch up with friends, to use Sundays for leisure, not catch-up time for all of the stuff I couldn’t get to during the week.
I supposed I’ve learned to tread in uncertainty, much like a kid dog paddles to stay above water; not conserving any energy, not turning my back on my work and allowing myself to float once in a while.
Today, as I walked over to my desk, I see how far removed I am from my original plan. I wake up and—to save time—start responding to email in my pajamas—you never know what critical responses are needed in the time it could take to pick out an outfit. I always think I’ll just read a few messages that need an immediate response, then I’ll get up and brush my teeth, but that doesn’t usually happen until lunch.
Sometimes I’ll get involved in one of those email undertows, when someone emails me about something not particularly urgent, but I figure I can respond quickly and do, then I get a follow-up email, asking for elaboration, or a phone call, as I’ve unwittingly opened some sort of Pandora’s Box. In the end I succumb to the email thread and find that I’ve drifted miles out, far from the plan I’d created in my PDA, the one that breaks my tasks into simple, hour-long slots. The finish line becomes murky. B-friend asks if I want to watch Monk with him. I say, sure. He says "It's on now," and I realize its 10 pm and I'm nowhere near done with my work day.
Sometimes I camouflage domestic, deceptively simple tasks into my to-do list, thinking I’ll knock them out in the periphery of my time. From my distorted perspective, so far offshore, everything seems possible. But then I realize I’m too deep in projects and survival becomes the priority, and these nice-to-do’s--phone calls to friends, researching and booking trips, buying deodorant--end up washing away.
Unfortunately some of these items float back and hit me like rotting corpses. I realized at 1am this morning, after finishing a project I had completely underestimated, that I hadn’t made my monthly car, credit card, and utility payments. I paid them online, glimpsed my checking account balance, and saw that I had about $1,500 less in the bank than I thought I had. I’d probably had small discrepancies for months that I’d ignored until now. I marked a relatively empty looking area on my PDA for “Balancing Checkbook”—11pm next Friday, right after I sort through my tax records, a task I was forced to schedule on a Friday when I realized that I was meeting with my accountant in two weeks and would be at a wedding in Puerto Rico the weekend before. Friday night was the only slot available. As I scheduled this to-do I silently grieved the loss of my weekend.
I’ve had this outstanding re-imbursement my insurance company owes me and hasn’t paid me after a fairly cut-and-dried case--my parked car was hit by a semi. Of course, these things don’t just work themselves out--you have to call 25-30 times and threaten to put your Uncle Vito on the case. But I haven’t had time, the luxury, so to speak, to be placed on hold for 30 minutes at a time, hoping to inch closer to my money.
“You’re crazy leaving money on the table,” b-friend says. It occurs to me that I haven’t billed for any of the projects I did in June. Sheesh, who forgets to get paid?
“I can’t call them this month,” I say. “I’m ….” I want to say I’m overwhelmed, but I still have memories of a personal development class I took once, when some guy threw out that phrase to explain why he couldn't find the time to work out, and attracted the ire of the entire coaching staff.
“Overwhelm is an ILLUSION! It doesn’t exist!” the coach said. “You choose to BE overwhelmed, but that is not who you are.” I know that I have a choice in this matter; that I can choose to be in control of my life. I make a note to take control somewhere in August.
I finally make the executive decision to break away from my computer and get dressed (earlier than usual), I notice I have no clean underwear in my dresser. I’ve graduated from college, so simply turning them inside out is no longer an option. I look though my planner in panic. B-friend notices my consternation.
“What’s wrong?” he says.
“I have no clean panties!”
“So do some laundry!”
I glimpse again at the PDA: I have a 10 o’clock, an 11 o’clock, a 12:30, a writing deadline, and I have to finish a project for BlogHer.
“But…I can’t!”
B-friend thinks I’ve finally lost it. “Of course you can,” he says. “You work from home. You work for yourself. You can do anything you want.”
I know that this is true in theory. But I don’t feel this way. How did this happen? How did I get wrapped so tightly in my projects that I began to drown in them? How did my friend the executive coach feel so helpless at the apex of her success? Why, when we finally grant ourselves some freedom do we assume that something is wrong and fill it with projects and more obligations? Why do we sink ourselves?
I imagine I’m in the deep end, panicking toward shore but not getting any closer. I’m tired, so tired. And yet, all I would need to do is turn over and float for a while.
I get an email from a friend and consulting colleague. She asks me if I’m free in the next few weeks for a project. I look at the Week-at-a-Glance section of my PDA. It’s black with appointment blocks, deadlines, a launch, and, oh yeah, that conference I’m helping to run.
I write back: “I'm available here and there,” hoping that my response is encouraging and yet cryptic enough to not necessarily commit myself to anything else. Then I think better of it, “but I don't think I could take on anything larger scale until after BlogHer.”
Not a full-out no. Not yet, but getting there.
I imagine myself floating on the water. It’s scary. I can’t see where I’m drifting and wonder if, when I decide to turn over, I’ll be even further from the shore. I wonder what sea creatures are swimming beneath me, taking projects I can no longer see. And I see what is now in front of me—the sky. And I remember the messages in the clouds that made me swim out here in the first place. They’ve dispersed temporarily, but last time I was fully, uncompromisingly fixated on them they seemed to form a word: TRUST.
Sounds like you need to learn to say no and to stop shopping at Costco so your checkbook balances like you expect it to.
Posted by: Jen | July 12, 2005 at 12:03 AM
As someone who recently invited you to add to your workload, I have to chime in here. First - there is no hard deadline! We can reschedule. Your life is important.
Second - as an independent worker from hom I feel your pain. Here are some hard won tips:
Tip #1: Always add a day to when you think you will get something done (never promise ANYTHING the same day). Even if it is a little thing. Add more days for big things. Honestly, most things don't need to be done in real time. The trick is figuring out which do and which don't.
Tip 2: Always take one hour a day just for yourself. I spend mine walking in the park. I spend that entire hour thinking about work stuff (generally) but because my body is moving and I am not behind my desk, it doesn't feel like work. And I get most of my awesome ideas then.
Tip 3: Always schedule your meetings during the same time frame. Mine are all between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. I generally don't schedule anything outside that time (given the time differences I work with, being in Europe). If you are doing more meetings per week than fit into that timeslots you are WASTING too much time (see #4).
Tip 4: Avoid meetings/conference calls unless truly necessary. Most things can be solved via email or IM.
Tip 5: Don't take on too much work. The money isn't worth the exhaustion.
Posted by: Elizabeth Albrycht | July 12, 2005 at 07:16 AM
You're going to Puerto Rico? I hope you plan to give yourself some real down time while you're there. Spend some time literally floating...on your back...in the pool or the Caribbean...and just LET GO for a bit. I say that as someone who has spent considerable time floating on her back in the Caribbean (we just moved from there)...just floating and looking up at that blue, blue sky and the gorgeous clouds. Because how else will you know if all of that scheduled pushing and brief face time at social events is how you really want to structure your life if you don't take a few hours to just do NOTHING? But then I tend to believe that our big answers often come in those 'nothing' moments (floating, showering, etc.) rather than when we're in serious "I must figure it out" mode. I got some great answers while floating on my back in the Caribbean...I saw that I was far from my personal shore...and started to see in those clouds how I could begin to find my way back...
Posted by: Marilyn | July 12, 2005 at 08:38 AM
I'm in the process of rewriting my definition of success. Thanks to Curt Rosengren. Curt recented posted a nice piece at Occupational Adventure on Time Abundance. Time Abundance is having the time to live life, all of life, fully. Not making the time. Having the time. It is a simple concept and not new, but worth mentioning, because we all forget to breath from time to time. It's easy to do, breathing. It's natural. It's almost automatic. Almost. So, I've written it down. Time Abundance. And breath.
Posted by: Troy Worman | July 12, 2005 at 09:38 PM
Thank you so much for sharing this. My husband and I both work from home, ten minutes from the ocean, and realized on a recent trip to Alaska (I don't say "vacation" since much of it was spent doing activities for a family wedding) that we had not been to the beach in a year. Maybe - okay, definitely - longer.
I say "yes" to projects because I yearn for the connection of working with others, and then book myself so thoroughly that I can only spend momemts on each. I look forward to travel time because when I'm on a plane, I'm away from cell and e-mail...and then feel guilty I'm not schmoozing with the person in the next seat. I'd call a client on this stuff in a heartbeat, but as for calling myself on it...well, I'm just too busy :-)
Thanks for the wake-up call. Looking forward to BlogHerCon.
Posted by: Jennifer Warwick | July 13, 2005 at 07:53 AM
As far as giving pithy advice is concerned, I'll pass (for now); I'm too recently back into solohood to feel justified in so doing. But I *would* like to thank you for helping me feel a little less inadequate on one point; I have an unfortunate tendency to say "kinda like" or "kinda sorta" far more than I would like (actually, I'd prefer not to say them at all); and you've written one of them in this post! Now I feel considerably less anal about my oral laziness! So, thank you! :-)
Posted by: Koan Bremner | July 15, 2005 at 10:25 PM
Jory, this so-o-o-o captures the essence of the self-employed entrepreneur. Wanting more time, but having less of it. Wanting a better lifestyle but not being able to turn off work. Wanting to be in control, but having more uncertainty.
I love this series!
Anita
Posted by: Anita Campbell | July 24, 2005 at 08:47 PM