Thinking about what fits. And what doesn’t.
Being a unique person who doesn’t quite fit in well can be a beautiful thing. But there’s another way to think about fit–what fits in your life and what doesn’t.
Being a unique person who doesn’t quite fit in well can be a beautiful thing. But there’s another way to think about fit–what fits in your life and what doesn’t.
The idea that some television show will pluck you out of obscurity and fix the problems in your home, your waistline, and your career is understandably attractive. But when it comes to the problems in your life, dreaming of rescue isn’t going to get you any closer to resolution.
The thing about change is, you can’t really predict how it will ripple outwards. Sometimes you get what you need. All that you need. Even some stuff you didn’t really want.
I’ve felt like I’m living as an alternate reality version of myself. I’ve had this idea of myself as a flaky, creative, unfocused person. I spent most of last year being a high-strung, Type-A person. Neither one really fits. So I have to find a new alternate reality.
The big lesson I gained from 2009? That my life has a capacity. It has finite volume. Only so many things will fit. I know this, because I hit my capacity last year. I may in fact have exceeded my life’s safe capacity last year.
It’s not about how sick you are, it’s about how functional you are, and in the case of some people, it’s probably more functional than many people whose (unaddressed) dysfunctions aren’t at DSM-IV diagnosable levels.
It’s now the middle of January, officially. Which means that we’re about 6 weeks from the beginning of March. Which, equinoxes and solstices notwithstanding, is pretty much the unofficial beginning of spring.
Six weeks is enough time to make a change in your life and see a noticeable difference. It’s enough time to believe that the [...]
Having identified the actual cause of the problem is a good thing. Knowing that the actual cause of the problem is you, is also a good thing.
I’m resistant to making certain tasks more routine, scheduled and automatic because it feels like a restriction to my freedom. It’s not. There is a glorious freedom in not having to make a hundred decisions.
Your relationship with your work can be like marriage. In the beginning, the chemisty is great. Over time, things can turn chilly. So what went wrong? Did you pick the wrong work or are you having the vocational equivalent of the seven-year-itch?