Constant Work

To be great, there must be constant work. 

I’ve subscribed to this idea that there should be balance. 

In some respects, sure.

But really, most people abuse the notion of balance.

They really want non-work. 

I do.

I’ve also often felt like things shouldn’t feel so difficult. 

Or take so long.

Inhaling the potent fumes that promise a time where things will feel effortless.
But not for just a brief moment – for longer. Like days or weeks of stability.

But things take time. It takes the time it takes.

This can produce massive anxiety as you wait for the calm between storms.

To feel good, to take action, to feel refreshed, to find calm.

But what ends up happening is that we numb, procrastinate, and avoid. 

White knuckling and controlling impulses during the week; Consuming our go-to vices on the weekend. 

A break. Or we overindex on caffeine and stimulants to feel productive to outweigh the boredom and process.

But what happens if I zoom out (or in?) to assess what I’m trying to rest from or run to or seek refuge in?

Clarity.

And it’s not all bad. It’s actually a gift to see these patterns.

I was stuck in a pattern of going hard all week. 

Sober. 

Eating well. 

Waking up early. 

Spending time with kids. 

But as soon as Friday hit, my body and mind coordinated to undo all my progress.

Selling me on relaxation as an earned escape from all my work during the week. 

Then Sunday Scaries show up. 

Then Monday mental and emotional hangover from indulging 2.5 days straight. 

Repeat 52 times a year. 

I felt this most potently after my 103 days of sobriety.

Straight into the holidays. Straight back to where I started. 

…

We can always begin again, though.

Actually, that’s all we can do. 

Escaping pain, uncertainty, or the need for constant work. 

It’s an illusion. 

The best we can do is make friends with change and effort.

Choosing connection and a bias toward creating rather than just observing our lives.

And we build self confidence by putting one bead on the string at a time, one day at a time, even after… no, especially after… we fall or lose our place or misstep. 

And choosing growth over perfection, compounded with reps and time, builds a lightness to it all that approaches life with curiosity instead of fear.