What to do when no one answers?
The nature of my work can be muddled sometimes. And there is a cycle to my own muddledness.
It's not unusual for me to sometimes wonder: is my work really doing something? Am I really benefiting someone else? And I, the constant skeptic that I am, often shrug off any attempts at consolation, arguing in my head that someone is simply being nice because they like me. The curious thing is that if you were to ask me what I do, I would tell you that I support communities and that I am the Executive Director of a community building organization. It's the simplest way to describe my work. This building and supporting communities pervades all levels of my life: socially, I love to organize; within my home, I am the homemaker; within WeStrive, I am the one who guides us in our work and who tries to get things done, who balances taking the time to converse and moving things forward; within the North American Youth Section I have asked to take on the task of working with meetings and conferences, supporting gathering initiatives.
And yet I question my ability to do these things. Now, if someone else sat down in front of me and expressed my same concerns, I would tell them, "But you appear to be attracted to something you are good at. You aren't forcing anyone's hand, you are bringing into every facet of your life a quality and a question which is very alive in you!" True. So why don't I always feel like this is the case, like this is valuable work?
I was sharing my thoughts with Vassag and Rachel earlier (in separate conversations), when Vassag's own quandary suddenly highlighted something for me: when you are putting calls and queries and ideas out into the world and not hearing back, you begin to falter, no matter how strong you are. You begin to feel alone, isolated. You convince yourself that if your work had value, then people would actually respond! It'd inspire them! This is a question, a theme, I want to look into. What is the impact of our decisions when we decide to not respond to an email, or share an idea, or make a phone call? What do we, in the next and apparent void or silence of our bustling activity, do to keep us from thinking that we are just doing something for naught?
This is a real question, poorly phrased here. But, to put it another way, and then to leave it: when we believe with an incredible faith in the power of a particular path, but no one seems to want to walk alongside, or prioritize supporting, or demonstrate their compassion for our work by including us, how do we keep ourselves inspired, in integrity and creatively thinking? As gregarious creatures, we require camaraderie, but the reality of it is that those of who walk this path carry full plates which are towering to the tipping point with tasks. So how do we feel connected, and vital to the future, when sometimes we are truly all alone? If our hands don't get dirty, is our work really building something? Questions, but seeds for the future.
It's not unusual for me to sometimes wonder: is my work really doing something? Am I really benefiting someone else? And I, the constant skeptic that I am, often shrug off any attempts at consolation, arguing in my head that someone is simply being nice because they like me. The curious thing is that if you were to ask me what I do, I would tell you that I support communities and that I am the Executive Director of a community building organization. It's the simplest way to describe my work. This building and supporting communities pervades all levels of my life: socially, I love to organize; within my home, I am the homemaker; within WeStrive, I am the one who guides us in our work and who tries to get things done, who balances taking the time to converse and moving things forward; within the North American Youth Section I have asked to take on the task of working with meetings and conferences, supporting gathering initiatives.
And yet I question my ability to do these things. Now, if someone else sat down in front of me and expressed my same concerns, I would tell them, "But you appear to be attracted to something you are good at. You aren't forcing anyone's hand, you are bringing into every facet of your life a quality and a question which is very alive in you!" True. So why don't I always feel like this is the case, like this is valuable work?
I was sharing my thoughts with Vassag and Rachel earlier (in separate conversations), when Vassag's own quandary suddenly highlighted something for me: when you are putting calls and queries and ideas out into the world and not hearing back, you begin to falter, no matter how strong you are. You begin to feel alone, isolated. You convince yourself that if your work had value, then people would actually respond! It'd inspire them! This is a question, a theme, I want to look into. What is the impact of our decisions when we decide to not respond to an email, or share an idea, or make a phone call? What do we, in the next and apparent void or silence of our bustling activity, do to keep us from thinking that we are just doing something for naught?
This is a real question, poorly phrased here. But, to put it another way, and then to leave it: when we believe with an incredible faith in the power of a particular path, but no one seems to want to walk alongside, or prioritize supporting, or demonstrate their compassion for our work by including us, how do we keep ourselves inspired, in integrity and creatively thinking? As gregarious creatures, we require camaraderie, but the reality of it is that those of who walk this path carry full plates which are towering to the tipping point with tasks. So how do we feel connected, and vital to the future, when sometimes we are truly all alone? If our hands don't get dirty, is our work really building something? Questions, but seeds for the future.