I was talking to a client the other day about her focus. She is putting together a plan to go out on her own as a writer, and right now she’s feeling pretty scattered.
Like many others in her situation, she’s doing a lot of work for free; trying to put it out in front of people who might be interested. She’s gigging it nights, weekends, lunch hours, early mornings- she’ll do a guest post here, edit a collection there, judge a contest, write a piece for a new e-zine or that other new website right up her genre.
She says to me: “I need to decide which of these things I’m going to do, because doing so much is making me really busy. I know that not all of them will lead me to where I want to go. I’ve got to sit down and prioritize what I’m going to do and what I’m not going to do.”
My response was one simple question: Why?
I get that you’re busy. I understand that you’re tired. I totally see you feeling overextended and distracted.
But, I don’t think that necessarily means you’re doing anything wrong.
I don’t know that the state of your calendar alone convinces me that you have a problem that needs to be fixed.
Then I suggested: “What if we think about this a different way? What if, instead of seeing all these elements of your life and schedule as competing pieces, what if you saw them as complementary?”
What if you viewed “You: Writing” as a big pool of water, and each commitment that you’re involved in for it is like one fish in the whole pond of purpose?
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having several fish swimming around the pond at one time, as long as there is plenty of food and no one is in danger or needing to be rescued.
Of course, if too many fish/commitments demand attention at one time, things can get rough. That’s dangerous and leads easily to burnout. Or a tidal wave, depending on the state of your filtration system. I don’t mean to minimize the feeling of barely keeping your head above water that comes with operating at maximum capacity. You never want to overcrowd the tank.
But hanging out and swimming around is what fish do—they’re not impatiently waiting on you to get with the program and start teaching them flashy tricks or to buy some better coral or one of those cool castle-like-looking accessories before they can really hit their stride. It’s their job to move around through the pool, causing ripples and affecting decisions that previously may have seemed simple. Stirring up questions that lead more towards risky choices than easy answers. Agitating the waters.
The pressure that you are putting on yourself is coming from you, not your ideas. Remember the difference. You are not your ambition—you can interact with and address your goals and dreams as entities separate from you, and you can decide how much or how little power you give them.
Again, I’m no fan of overcommitment. I’m just saying it might be worth examining whether activities that you previously thought were mutually exclusive actually are. What if it turns out that you get more energy from cross-contributing than you lose?
As long as everyone is eating well and staying afloat, then why not rejoice at the many exciting opportunities that have been put before you?
Think of all the people who would love to have a chance at the things you have on your plate right now. Allow yourself to enjoy the rush of adrenalin that comes with the pressure to perform well. Lean in to the drama and intrigue of how these situations will unfold and grow. Be ready to take the next step, if necessary, to show that this is more than just your side-hustle; this is your passion. This is what wakes you up in the morning, and in the middle of the night.
My client may not feel less stressed, but as I said near the end of our conversation: “The goal here is not for you to feel comfortable. The goal is for you to move forward, towards the future you want for yourself.”
Don’t limit the possibilities too soon.
Just keep swimming….and lead your life.
*This post was inspired by the song “Swim”, by Jack’s Mannequin.