The Three W’s
Wait More. Walk More. Write More.
So… Clearly my little “project” turned out to be less than wildly successful. For anyone who wasn’t following my project, I was supposed to be completing a daily task — something I hadn’t done before — and writing about it. Every day. I would call it an epic fail, but it honestly wasn’t; the ultimate point of the project was to get me writing and for the most part that has been happening. Granted, my day job requires me to write every day, but I also write for myself most mornings and weekends. And even when I don’t — hey, I’m writing.
A very large part of the problem with the project was that I really hate sharing work that I don’t feel is up to par. The bar I set is different for different types of work, but there were several in that bunch that I didn’t feel reached even the lowest one. Additionally, it’s really, really difficult to work two different jobs and take care of a dog and have a relationship and find time to complete a random task I’ve assigned myself and then find even more time to write about it. Every day. I know there are plenty of people out there that juggle far more responsibility — I once worked at a restaurant with a woman who worked full time and went to school full time and had 3 kids. (To this day I believe she was some sort of daylight tolerant vampire who lacked a need for sleep). I, however, am one of those birds that starts to feel overwhelmed if you give me too many restaurant choices. Sure I can whip up a Bloody Mary, a Cosmo, a double Cadillac margarita with salt, 2 shots of whiskey and a Guinness with one hand tied behind my back, but give me Italian, Mexican or Greek and my head wants to explode.
Naturally I’ve spent the last three months in an ever widening pool of self loathing, convinced I have nothing of value to offer the world and am indeed destined to wind up the crazy old bat at the bar drinking Old Fashions at 10 am on a Tuesday. This cesspool of self-pity led me to scour the all-knowing internet for even the tiniest granules of wisdom to help me out of my funk and back on the road to being a contributor to society.
That’s not exactly how it worked out.
I know many of you out there have “mottos” you live by. I’ve read many of them and, while some of them offer helpful hints or seem to be great in theory, putting them into practice is often difficult (I’d say impossible but many will judge) for me to maintain. It’s sort of like Captain Barbosa says of the Pirate’s Code: “they’re more like guidelines.” Guidelines I can do; hard and fast rules have never been my forte.
Aside from that, most self-proclaimed productivity/motivational “gurus” seem to have little to offer in the way of anything revolutionary. They all say the same thing: get up early, eat a bunch of protein, meditate, avoid email except for twice a day; the list goes on. And on and on. And these can be great little tidbits of advice if you’re the type of person who likes to get up early, eat right away and can avoid pesky email for more than an hour. I am not that person so your words of “wisdom” don’t really do me much good.
The one pearl I did come across was this: find what works for you and make it a routine.
Now that I can get behind. I’ve never been a big fan of routine. I’ve always been a “go where the wind takes me” type. That hasn’t exactly been working for me. So I came up with my own little life motto: Wait more, walk more, write more. Take it or leave it — doesn’t much matter to me. It’s definitely a work in progress, but at least it’s progress!
Wait more. “Wait more” is good for helping me deal with my patience — or, rather, my lack thereof. I understand the value of being a patient person, always have, and wish more than anything that I was naturally inclined to that state of being. Patient people are just happier in general and far more pleasant to deal with. They have that “come as it may” quality that often tends to relax everyone around them. I, however, am not that person. Often it’s not even about being in a rush, per se, it’s just that easily 75% of the time that I’m held up for some reason, it’s because someone else is a total idiot. Example: the grocery store line. I will, without fail, pick the slowest line every time. There could be one person in front of me buying 1 bunch of grapes but that one person will inevitably have some issue with the price of said grapes, not grasping the fact that $3.99 is per pound, not for the entire 3-pound bag that they selected. After a manager has been called over to explain this situation to the person in front of me — because the cashier obviously can’t be believed — then, and only then, does the person set down her purse, fish through it to find her wallet, and then fish through that to find the 13 singles (all in different pockets), one quarter, two dimes, and seven pennies required to finally complete this transaction. At this point I’ve read People cover to cover and completed the crossword so now have to pay for a magazine I didn’t want relaying stories about people I couldn’t care less about.
My goal is to find a way to achieve something akin to a Zen-like state in the throes of this frustrating scenario. Don’t pick up the People magazine (I don’t know who half of them are anyway), stop and take a look around. Watch the guy with the dreads and three nose rings doing his crazy dance (yes, I shop at Whole Foods. In Oakland. We got your crazy). Talk to the kid behind you clutching his 70% cacao bar like it was hand delivered by Santa himself (yes, kids in Oakland whose parents shop at Whole Foods evidently like 70% cacao). Give the cashier a buck so that the woman with the grapes can stop fishing for pennies. That may be cheating a bit but I’m not the only one waiting; let’s move this along. The key is to breathe, observe and not let something so trivial get my panties in a bunch.
Walk more. This one helps me to achieve the previous. Walking is one of my favorite things, largely for its ability to accomplish multiple goals (I’m a big fan of multitasking): 1. It gets you somewhere; 2. It’s good exercise; 3. It get’s me outside and moving and helps stamp out the excess nervous, impatient energy brought on by the lady at the grocery checkout.
This could also translate as Move More. I’ve heard a lot about the advantages of standing desks. Most people focus on long-term health benefits, but I was recently privy to a discussion asking about the value of standing desks for kids. It seemed such a perfectly logical idea I wondered why no one had thought of it while I was in school. They help to divert some of that never-ending, Energizer Bunny energy kids possess and help keep them focused. It occurred to me that I also often suffer from that same sort of energy and, while I’ve used a standing desk intermittently for a few years now, I benefit the most from using it most of the day. I sit down to eat. And when I go outside in the afternoons for fresh air and a moment of reflection. Other than that, on my feet! And it’s great entertainment for my co-workers — I can’t stand still. I’m constantly bobbing, stepping, doing a little dance. Evidently my inner 6 year-old has been itching to get out for a while.
Write more. This, of course, is the penultimate of all of the reading, experimenting, pondering and, let’s be honest, procrastination I’ve done over the past few months. I love writing, even if it’s just gibberish in a journal (I also love alliteration) that would be complete nonsense to anyone else. That nonsense translates to less mental ticker-tape floating around in my head. It helps me work out issues I sometimes didn’t even realize I had. And, when I’m flustered, it often helps me relax. There’s a lot of crazy in there to sort out. As I get older I’m realizing I’m much more high-strung than I ever knew. Writing helps me take it down a notch. Really, I should be writing all day every day. Except, of course, when I’m walking or waiting.
If any of this benefits even one person, even just a tiny bit, I’m glad I shared it. If not, my inner 6 year-old is currently calm. And everyone I have to deal with today will appreciate that.
Cheers!
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