Learning to Love the Process
I got on the phone this morning for a bit with my friend Gee. She'd sent me a file for some business cards recently, and I wanted to tell her they came out rather well. I've condensed who I am on my business card, "writer and blogger" now, since I do both, if not equally. I list both blogs--which some believe could cause me some serious professional hari kari. I'm not totally sure about that though. It could all depend on where I land in the next couple of weeks.
Yet we both seemed kind of out of breath this a.m., like we'd both been running a marathon when neither had left the house. Gee admitted to having a whole bunch of deadlines to meet, and I admitted to...well....
Achievement Fixation.
I'm one of those people who measures her success by how much she achieves--and if I'm not achieveing the next milestone, I'm miserable.
It's a lot like Tarzan swinging from tree to tree. I do it screaming, and with my eyes closed.
I don't enjoy any of it, really. Which isn't good.
In life, there's more to the process than to the final achievement.
Which then means I'm miserable most of the time--because most of the time is process. And happy only in those moments of achievement.
How did I get this way? oh, it's a long story....chalk it up to bad parenting that got reinforced by bad habits in adulthood. Always trying to please everybody all the time. Loving that high when something's accomplished and done well.
Liking the end result because the end results mean the process is over. And I can breathe again.
But when the end isn't in sight, when there's just one day after another, with no sense of resolution, the frustration is horrific. Every day when there is no resolution is nightmarish. I know that, after awhile, I don't sleep. Or I don't sleep well...
That's what got me 10 years of chronic fatigue, I guess.
Yet it's hard to break that cycle of pushing myself to the point of exhaustion (mental or physical) in some effort to achieve something. It's an ingrained habit--like a demon on my back.
And being held back from achieving by an all-consuming illness for so long--well, that just creates more frustration.
How does one learn to love the process, the journey, or whatever it's called? How does one deal with a certain kind of ennui that's part of the process? Better yet, can one ever make up for time, or more appropriately, life, lost?
I don't really know. Gee, though, is 12 years younger than me, and I hope that I'm at least able to convey to her what *not* to do.
Now, if I can figure out how to tame this demon, I'll be happy.
(photo courtesy of Anne Taintor
Yet we both seemed kind of out of breath this a.m., like we'd both been running a marathon when neither had left the house. Gee admitted to having a whole bunch of deadlines to meet, and I admitted to...well....
Achievement Fixation.
I'm one of those people who measures her success by how much she achieves--and if I'm not achieveing the next milestone, I'm miserable.
It's a lot like Tarzan swinging from tree to tree. I do it screaming, and with my eyes closed.
I don't enjoy any of it, really. Which isn't good.
In life, there's more to the process than to the final achievement.
Which then means I'm miserable most of the time--because most of the time is process. And happy only in those moments of achievement.
How did I get this way? oh, it's a long story....chalk it up to bad parenting that got reinforced by bad habits in adulthood. Always trying to please everybody all the time. Loving that high when something's accomplished and done well.
Liking the end result because the end results mean the process is over. And I can breathe again.
But when the end isn't in sight, when there's just one day after another, with no sense of resolution, the frustration is horrific. Every day when there is no resolution is nightmarish. I know that, after awhile, I don't sleep. Or I don't sleep well...
That's what got me 10 years of chronic fatigue, I guess.
Yet it's hard to break that cycle of pushing myself to the point of exhaustion (mental or physical) in some effort to achieve something. It's an ingrained habit--like a demon on my back.
And being held back from achieving by an all-consuming illness for so long--well, that just creates more frustration.
How does one learn to love the process, the journey, or whatever it's called? How does one deal with a certain kind of ennui that's part of the process? Better yet, can one ever make up for time, or more appropriately, life, lost?
I don't really know. Gee, though, is 12 years younger than me, and I hope that I'm at least able to convey to her what *not* to do.
Now, if I can figure out how to tame this demon, I'll be happy.
(photo courtesy of Anne Taintor
posted by Tish Grier at 4:17 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home