I’m at the pub, having escaped the house, where I was quickly getting mired again in over-working a web solution for a very nice web design client I really shouldn’t have taken on: Every moment I spend on someone else’s project is time I’m not spending on my own work.
I know this, but it’s so hard to say ‘no’ when people ask for help with things that I know how to do. I often see the potential in people’s projects, and I feel compelled to give my help where it can make a difference. (Though I know it’s not my fault that I’ve bothered to learn these things that other people haven’t.) Even when they pay me to help them, every task always, always winds up taking at least five times longer than I expected (more like twelve times longer). It’s just not worth it, financially or in terms of advancing my own commitments.
It’s also really easy to use those sideline tasks as a distraction, a way of avoiding the more involved, more personally demanding activities of my personal projects and work for my main client.
So I got totally lost yesterday, but today I’m taking a different tack than usual: I’m not bad and wrong for having got lost. I’m learning.
Each of these experiences gets me a little closer to the experience I’d prefer — if I’m mindful about what happened, if I pay attention to the lessons I’m getting, versus being unconscious and claiming frustration when I’m actually getting wilfully lost, because I know there’s a better alternative, and I know how to get there. Lately I’ve been able to actively get myself back on track, even when it’s scary, by taking a step back and looking honestly at what’s really going on.
(I’m still working on my little “box of focus” internet-antidote project, which I’ll show you when”¦ well, it exists.)
Meanwhile, I’m at the pub, and I’ve been doodling — an activity from childhood I still love. When I take the time to draw, I feel like I’m doing something I should be doing, something that belongs to me, just like when I’m deep in good writing.
So today I drew the “bochle” who frequents the pub where I work:
Back home in Charlottetown, we would have said “townie” for “bochle” — you know: one of those characters you see around town who’s a little bit scruffy, a little bit crazy.
This particular fellow is someone who’s been in the public eye a lot, complaining about, well, everything. He’s never worked and is a big advocate of “self-medication”. The real challenge for me about this guy is that, other than the drugs thing, I’ve agreed with every opinion of his I’ve read. He ran for local election, and joins all kinds of committees, then complains about hierarchical power structures, then drops out. But at least he’s trying, which is more than I can say for myself: I’m too frustrated about politics to go anywhere near them.
Here’s the other doodle I did:
Bunting zig-zagging down the High Street in Wick! For the Queen’s Jubilee? No, for our annual Harbourfest!
Okay, it’s time to do the work I’m paid for. But this is where my head’s been at this morning.