“But you are somewhere.” Yes, I know. Specifically, I’m in my writing/editing cave, typing this blog post—well, actually, since you’re reading it, I’m done typing it—
And here I go, getting nowhere again.
I’ve always been the highly motivated type. I definitely take downtime, but there’s always a tiny part of me that feels guilty about it. Not because I’m not working, but because I’ve got so much I want to do, and I feel like I’m not getting toward those things fast enough. I always want to be doing the next thing so I can get to the thing after that and get to the place.
But then I get to “the place” and find it’s just a step toward the place after it.
And so on until I am spinning the proverbial wheel in my attempts to get somewhere—anywhere—other than where I am.
If I stopped this at “the highly motivated type,” this would probably be a healthy, positive quality. But bringing it so far past that makes it feel less healthy and more like some kind of endless strive that I fear will never be fulfilled.
It’s not all unhealthy, though. Being motivated in work is a good thing. I want to do the best job I can and help authors tell their stories in the most effective way. When I can put my drive toward doing something I love, it actually works out quite well.
It’s in the in-between spaces where this personality type starts to fall down. I have all these goals out in front of me, and I am bound and determined to get them done now. If I don’t, I’m moving too slow. If other people are involved, well, why aren’t they as motivated as me? Why doesn’t anyone else understand time is limited, and I don’t want to get to the end thinking I didn’t get all these things done?
Hmm, that got heavy. Wow.
Since this blog is technically on my business site, I should possibly go back and make that sentence less personal. But I won’t. I’ve said this in past posts, and I’ll say it again: I’m not perfect, and I don’t pretend to be. I’m human, and humans are messy sometimes. I don’t believe in hiding the messy parts.
Coming from someone who helps to make stories more cohesive, that might sound counterintuitive. After all, isn’t my whole business hiding the mess?
Yes, to a degree, but that’s also different. Stories are meant to be a finished product. As such, they should be polished and present a cohesive experience for the audience.
But stories don’t start as a polished, cohesive product. Like people, they start messy, and they go through revisions. They cut out parts, add new things, and sometimes add the original thing back in because “that was the right direction, after all.” If you think of life as a story, it fits this model. The beautiful thing about life is the chance to restart, rethink, even redo in some cases. There’s no one ending, much like stories might start with an ending in mind and then change so much they wind up somewhere else.
To bring this back around, if my life is a story in the development phase, I should let it meander a little. Saying that feels a little scary after I’ve made such a lifestyle out of always pushing forward, but as a story professional, my whole vibe is letting the story have room to breathe and grow. It’s okay to be a work in progress. It’s okay to have a place in mind but then go somewhere else.
So, if you’re like me and need to hear this today, take a breath. Stop, look, and think about where you’re headed. Ask yourself if that’s the story you want your life to tell right now. Be honest about the answer.
And then go forward with purpose, not just a desperate need to “get there.”
(As a side note, anyone else have one of those words that you swear you’ve realized is spelled a different way, only to then realize you had it right the first time? I swear, I remembered “meander” was spelled with an “i.” It’s not. Heh, look at me unraveling a revision and going back to my first thought.)
👋 Fair travels,
Mary
