Forward Motion Doesn't Mean Forward Progress
For those who follow the sometimes-dull story of my life to the date, yes, there was another entry here. I made it private out of respect to a good friend...you'll have to ask me about it.
That said, this week's not been the week that last week was. Last week, I was going through the motions, trying to bang out each day in order to get to the next one with the goal of reaching the weekend faster. This week, I'm going through the motions, trying to make it to the weekend so I can get the week over with. Last week, it was excited anticipation. This week, it's the same forward motion without the same passion. Forward motion without a purpose. Forward motion without a goal.
Not to say that goals and purposes are the only reason for forward motion. Life goes forward, and we're foolish to stand in one place or backtrack. But goals and purposes give us the edge not just to move forward, but to push forward, to reach for something more and battle past obstacles blocking the way. Last week, I had those...the promise of a great weekend with a great friend, something to look forward to, something to anticipate.
This week, just the weekend looms ahead, with nothing really special about it standing out at the moment.
The only real positive thing about this week so far is an achievement at work, something way overdue that I haven't had time to tackle until now. It's done, and I feel like a hundred pounds have been lifted off my shoulders. But at the same time, I feel annoyed that this is the best part of my week.
I don't want work to be my priority. I've said it before, at least in person, and I was talking about it with my friend this past weekend. Yes, work is a responsibility. A forty-hour-a-week (or more if you're on salary) responsibility. And those of us who are responsible tend to bring some of that home. That's fine, but I don't want to become a workaholic. My mom said once that she never gets up dreading the office, dreading going into work...she loves her job. I have those mornings, the mornings where I don't think I'm going to encounter what I want to, don't think I'm going to be happy by the time the clock strikes twelve. I've had dreams where I'm renting out containers, visiting containers on vacation. I have that annoying tendency to point out our rental fleet whenever I see one nearby. I don't want to be like that. When I'm out with a friend, when I have a girlfriend, I want them to be my priority. I try to make it that way. But deeper than that, I want them to be my priority all the time. Jobs change, jobs come and go. People shouldn't have to. Must I be so in-tune with my work that I have to fill my empty spaces with work? Sometimes, that's how it feels.
That's fine for some, but my aspirations are different. To be successful at what I do, yes, of course...but also to set it aside when a friend is near. Work can't be everything.
I know that...I just need to believe it.
To say my head's been swimming in a sea of its own confusion is an understatement. So many things have been going on up there. What is my future? Where do I stand? Where do I want to be, and am I doing what it takes to get there? Who do I tell? Lately, there are a lot more questions than answers. And amidst it all, the exuberance that I had a week ago has waned now. A week ago, I was smiling, cheerful, probably walking on Cloud Ten because I'd floated right up past Nine. Now, I'm just going through the motions, feeling unsatisfied, unmotivated. I had my moment of vindication last night, and in the wake of that, the drive home was the best drive home I'd had in a long time, couldn't wait to get back and every song from the CD player set the right emotion. Then, coming around the corner of I-293 back toward the Merrimack River, I saw the red glow of the Hampton Inn sign across the water, and I felt something again. The song on the CD was Stone Sour's "Bother," I was singing at full volume, and suddenly I felt as though the dark emotion of the song were part of me, too. I shook it off, but for an instant, I felt empty.
So many things in my head fighting for attention. Maybe that's why I've seemed so spaced-out at work, like I'm not focusing, like I'm trying to ignore my co-worker when he starts recounting some tale of past work experiences. I don't mean to have an attitude. I just need to settle so many things, and they don't just go away for eight hours every day.
Maybe work finally isn't my priority after all.
That said, this week's not been the week that last week was. Last week, I was going through the motions, trying to bang out each day in order to get to the next one with the goal of reaching the weekend faster. This week, I'm going through the motions, trying to make it to the weekend so I can get the week over with. Last week, it was excited anticipation. This week, it's the same forward motion without the same passion. Forward motion without a purpose. Forward motion without a goal.
Not to say that goals and purposes are the only reason for forward motion. Life goes forward, and we're foolish to stand in one place or backtrack. But goals and purposes give us the edge not just to move forward, but to push forward, to reach for something more and battle past obstacles blocking the way. Last week, I had those...the promise of a great weekend with a great friend, something to look forward to, something to anticipate.
This week, just the weekend looms ahead, with nothing really special about it standing out at the moment.
The only real positive thing about this week so far is an achievement at work, something way overdue that I haven't had time to tackle until now. It's done, and I feel like a hundred pounds have been lifted off my shoulders. But at the same time, I feel annoyed that this is the best part of my week.
I don't want work to be my priority. I've said it before, at least in person, and I was talking about it with my friend this past weekend. Yes, work is a responsibility. A forty-hour-a-week (or more if you're on salary) responsibility. And those of us who are responsible tend to bring some of that home. That's fine, but I don't want to become a workaholic. My mom said once that she never gets up dreading the office, dreading going into work...she loves her job. I have those mornings, the mornings where I don't think I'm going to encounter what I want to, don't think I'm going to be happy by the time the clock strikes twelve. I've had dreams where I'm renting out containers, visiting containers on vacation. I have that annoying tendency to point out our rental fleet whenever I see one nearby. I don't want to be like that. When I'm out with a friend, when I have a girlfriend, I want them to be my priority. I try to make it that way. But deeper than that, I want them to be my priority all the time. Jobs change, jobs come and go. People shouldn't have to. Must I be so in-tune with my work that I have to fill my empty spaces with work? Sometimes, that's how it feels.
That's fine for some, but my aspirations are different. To be successful at what I do, yes, of course...but also to set it aside when a friend is near. Work can't be everything.
I know that...I just need to believe it.
To say my head's been swimming in a sea of its own confusion is an understatement. So many things have been going on up there. What is my future? Where do I stand? Where do I want to be, and am I doing what it takes to get there? Who do I tell? Lately, there are a lot more questions than answers. And amidst it all, the exuberance that I had a week ago has waned now. A week ago, I was smiling, cheerful, probably walking on Cloud Ten because I'd floated right up past Nine. Now, I'm just going through the motions, feeling unsatisfied, unmotivated. I had my moment of vindication last night, and in the wake of that, the drive home was the best drive home I'd had in a long time, couldn't wait to get back and every song from the CD player set the right emotion. Then, coming around the corner of I-293 back toward the Merrimack River, I saw the red glow of the Hampton Inn sign across the water, and I felt something again. The song on the CD was Stone Sour's "Bother," I was singing at full volume, and suddenly I felt as though the dark emotion of the song were part of me, too. I shook it off, but for an instant, I felt empty.
So many things in my head fighting for attention. Maybe that's why I've seemed so spaced-out at work, like I'm not focusing, like I'm trying to ignore my co-worker when he starts recounting some tale of past work experiences. I don't mean to have an attitude. I just need to settle so many things, and they don't just go away for eight hours every day.
Maybe work finally isn't my priority after all.