I'm doing it again. I'm forgetting that I'm a writer and I'm pining for excellence at work. I was inspired today, by a client. We will call him...Client. Client so clearly loves his work. Client is a savvy business man, his company is poised for greatness. Client is innovative, he embraces change, he is creative...but balances that with a need for profits. Client's confidence and excitement and genuine joy for his work seeps out of every pore. I'm afraid it is contagious.
On my long drive back from Orange County (a separate diatribe will be reserved for clients in Orange County...a certain blandness prevails), I found myself in rapid-fire how to improve my career mode. The mental dialogue varies little, if at all. Almost always, it goes something like this:
"I'm good at what I do. Very good. If I applied myself, I could be great. I could open my own company. I could make an impact, be well-known in the industry, be invited to speak. How do I leverage my current position at my company to eventually get to the top of my game? Maybe I should get my MBA after all. That would really give me a leg up with all the experience I already have. Maybe Client will hire me. Or maybe I should work for the competition? Hmmm, I wonder who is hiring. I better research all the companies again, see what would be best for me, make some decisions. Bigger office, even bigger expense account, more freedom, creative license, one day my own firm...I can see it all coming together..."
Yes. All coming together. If it weren't for that pesky writing career we are trying to have.
Before I even know what I've done, I've sent off resumes and spent hours researching financials of companies that might be "perfect" to launch my career into the next super-dynamo-wow-look-at-her-go phase. Its only when I'm completing my third request for literature on yet another MBA program that it hits me. Might, possibly....is there a chance.... this be a condition known as avoidance? Procrastination? Fear of not measuring up on the writing page so, hell, let's really measure up on some other page?
It would be fascinating if it weren't sad. And unproductive. And, well, common practice. This happened to me last month. And the one before. What is it about writing that causes the writer to pursue ANY AND ALL alternative ways to expend energy to avoid the simple act of writing? And to up the ante (because we are trying to excel here, aren't we?), maybe it goes even further. Perhaps the fear of failure at something that matters is so great, we'd really rather not stick around to be part of the failure. Better to not try and not fail. That would be far easier to stomach, than giving it everything you've got and finding that you come up short. That your writing is lacking. It's much less disappointing to be bad at something you don't care about anyway. And if you excel at something you don't care about (read: me at my job), what then? It's still safer to excel at my job and possibly disappoint than to try to excel at writing and possibly disappoint. Because I care about the writing too much. Its the thing I care about the most.
So hours later, I'm here with my empty pages, but with newly updated career insight under my belt. A few empty hours stretch before me and I've got the time to write. But there is my book sitting unfinished...I only have two more chapters left to read. And there are all those blogs I didn't read today because I was gone. And then comments I can post if I'm inspired. And still the blank pages sit here.
What a scaredy-cat, indeed.
