When life has become a job. Even the fun stuff.

So, I made a huge revelation today.

I hate advertising, marketing, promoting, recruiting, and selling.  Those of you who know me personally, know that I don't use a word like hate freely. Dislike is about as strong as I go in most situations. So, for me to hate something is pretty big. Actually, its darn right colossal.

I am a creator. I love to generate ideas, make dances, write documents, design newsletter, etc.  What I hate is trying to convince someone that what I have done is worth their time, money or attention.  This commodification of the creative process eats at me; it burns up my life force and makes me really really sad.

Now, I know enough about marketing to reverse the perspective and say things like-- It is just sharing my "gift" with the world. It is letting people know of the great things I have planned or organized.  It is not about me or the event; it is about the person who is looking for something like this and wants to know about this event. . . needs to know about this event.

This things is, I don't know if I believe that.  From where I am sitting, I see throngs of people with overfull lives and no wiggle room for adding anything onto their agenda. They are too busy, too stressed, too strapped and even if they want to participate, their sleep deprivation is telling them otherwise. The supply out weighs the demand. There is more to do than anyone wants to do.

Life has become a job. Even the fun stuff. 

I will not guilt people into doing something.  I will not scare someone into doing something. I will not alienate them or devalue them as individuals if they choose not to do something. I believe in personal choice and personal freedom. I don't like manipulating someone into thinking they need something they don't want.  I can't do it. I won't do it.  Just the thought of it creeps me out!

I can't force anyone to do anything. I wouldn't want to. 

Here is the reality. I get sad when people don't come to my shows or to my events. It makes me sad that others do not see the value I see in the things to which I dedicate my time and energy. It triggers a deep sense of unworthiness in me. In my most downtrodden moments I wonder: Is it because I am just not good enough?  Maybe.  Or maybe I am fantastic-- but just a terrible promoter. 

What I know is that I believe in the things I do. I love doing them. I just don't have it in me to promote; I don't want to market; I don't want to convince; and, I certainly don't want to sell anything.  I have to detach from the outcome. I have to love the work so much that I would do it alone in a room with the lights out. A teacher of mine asked: what does a person do when they have made something no one wants? Like a hostess who has prepared a fabulous desert for a group of guests who just aren't that hungry.

The guests are not to blame because they are not hungry.

The hostess is not to blame for being generous and caring.

But, what happens to all that extra cake?

I don't know. I just don't know.

Did you make your bed today?

It's been a while since I have checked in to my musings to report on the goings on in my brain and heart.  Sometimes we just need to be in the world, doing what we do. Doing. Working. Experiencing. Being. This past week was my first uninterrupted week of work since starting my sabbatical.  I actually had time at home to do my work without being called away.  What a luxury and what a challenge! The challenge of course is the magnitude of my projects and the awkwardness of moving between them, prioritizing them and following through with them. 

I have found that it takes me at least 1/2 hour just to get back into a project that has been inert, remember what I have done and figure out what I need to do next.  Then of course comes the actual work of doing that next step in such a way that I am prepared for the following step.  As I write this, it sounds incredibly dry and boring, and I am wondering why any one would ever keep reading this little post.  But, I feel deep down there is a lesson here. . . somewhere.

When we have vision, and we have great goals for change and growth, new information, and new processes, we need tools to follow through with them. It becomes more complicated when you're like me and have three or more huge projects in the works at one time. Switching between them mentally can be a huge effort. 

So, I have shifted my emphasis from what I am working on to what I am finishing.

Finishing, doesn't mean I am completely done, but done enough to let that project sit for a while in a state that I can successfully pick up when it is time.  In other words, as I am working on a project, I am also thinking about the trail of breadcrumbs I am leaving behind that will help be reengage with the work later.  I ask myself, is this document complete enough to consider a draft (whether brainstorm, outline, first or second)? Is this somehow usable for the next step? Or have I just left behind I mountain of chaotic thoughts that might leave me feeling more overwhelmed when I return to it?

Usability is key for me.  I am incredibly talented at starting ideas, doing incredible brainstorming and then leaving it to sit and go nowhere.  Now, as I am working on my sabbatical project I ask at each stage whether this dance score, or this chart, or this lesson plan can be used.  Luckily, I am not a perfectionist so usability is something I can see at a variety of stages. Ultimately I want to create resources for myself so that I don't have to recreate the wheel every time.  

There is something satisfying about generating something that works.  

It's a bit like making your bed in the morning so it is ready for you to get in at night. Do the little bit of extra work that invites you back into the process so you can enter with joy and excitement.  

Which leads me to my final question. . . 

Did I make my bed today? 

Thrown Off my Game

Yes, I have disappeared. Sorry about that. 

It all started with the dreaded ankle twist in a rehearsal two weeks ago for MeCo.  Ugh. I didn't think it was that bad, until then I realized that an ankle sprain can always turn chronic if you aren't careful.  I did what I thought was the prudent thing and took a couple days off from walking on it entirely.  It was a good thing. But, I realized that being sedentary for two whole days (except to use the bathroom) is absolutely awful for my brain chemistry.   I felt like I was living in a fog, complete apathy, horrible verbal skills, fatigue, the works.  So, I got myself to the gym the next day for a swim. Much better. Until. The sore throat struck. 

Not strep, just a cold. But, in a week where I was struggling already and was just bouncing back, this was not what I wanted to face.  I even cried. Over a sore throat.  It's true. Tears.

But, I pushed through. Got through the ACDF auditions, Chicago auditions and another MeCo rehearsal. The ankle is doing much better. I still have a few moments when it catches, but for the most part, I can walk and move around. The cold has turned into a terribly annoying cough, and I find myself very tired and still very messy in the mucous department.  The end of the semester is a tease, because it is both lighter in terms of time commitments yet more stressful with student crisis right and left.  There is still work to the be done and lots of it.  But, I am caught without a lot of motivation.

I can't tell if I am just sick and fatigued from pushing over the last couple weeks, or if I am just lazy.  I feel the guilt of being lazy, but that is not enough of a motivating factor to illicit change.  All I really want to do is to do nothing.  But, that isn't entirely true either.  I want to be well.  I am tired of being injured then sick.  These two weeks have been tough on me, and it has really thrown me off my game.

I have continued to tweet, but I haven't blogged because. . . I don't know. "I hate complaining. I don't have the energy. I don't really like myself being injured and ill. I don't feel inspired. I want to just go to sleep (again).  I don't even want to drink coffee for a little pep (bad sign)."  I don't think I am depressed. I don't really know what to think. 

But here is a list of what I do want and want to feel:
I want to feel well.
I want to feel energized.
I want to feel rested.
I want to feel accomplished (with getting my grading done).
I want to feel well. (Did I say that already? Well, I really mean it).
I want to go through a day without coughing.

I know this illness and downturn could be a result of my chronic over commitment.  But, it's not that I want to do less. It is that I want to feel well enough to do more.  So, when I feel bad I want to do nothing at all. 

Hopefully tomorrow I will feel better.  Thanks for hearing me out.
Beth

PS Expect some book reviews coming up. These past two weeks have been good for reading.

Stress or Depression or Both

I am feeling (to say the least) overwhelmed. Since returning from the National Dance Educator's Organization Conference last week, I feel like I can't catch up.  This is the time in the semester when all the "good" ideas are coming to a head, and it is time to pay up. 

But even that isn't entirely true. I don't have THAT much to do. I certainly could achieve most of what I have to get done, but the truth is I am feeling spent.  I was so careful during the first part of the semester to take care of my time and energy, but this still happened.  I still ran out of gas.

I am griping. I guess I am in the mood to gripe.  I am bitter because I have so many ideas going around in my head. Creative ideas that are full of potential. Dance ideas. Teaching ideas. Writing ideas. But I don't want to do the work. I don't want to take the time and energy to actually put my pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.  Even this is feeling awkward. Mostly because I feel like I have some very cool experiences from the NDEO conference which are great blog material, but instead I am caught in this cloudy mess of fatigue, apathy and dejection. 

The stress (which apparently snuck up on me without me knowing it) is taking its toll.  I am feeling depressed.  And, that is the crux of all of this.  I have great things to do, great insights to share, ideas to follow, but I am anchored to the typical symptoms: fatigue, sorrow, obsessive thoughts, anxiety dreams, the desire to just sit for hours on end, preferably with a stream of movies going on end to end to end. 

In the scheme of things, the symptoms are not terrible and will hopefully go away soon. But it is a reminder that even when things are good, stress takes it toll, and for me stress results in depression.  I think it is a chemical thing because there is really nothing wrong. I just feel bad.  Sub-par. 

Good times and a stable life, and I can still get caught in the cloud.  It happens less and less.  But it is a reality for me. Chronic depression doesn't just disappear when things are good and you have a good week, or two or three.  It is a constant practice. 

Side Note:  It doesn't help that my office printer is broken.  It is throwing of my groove and making everything harder.

Perhaps tomorrow the cloud will lift like coastal fog that finally burns off after you have given up on a sunny day.  But at this point I am still hoping for sunny skies.