I officially ended 13 months of Self-Imposed Sabbatical this past weekend, in rather a hootenanny-ish way, ergo my delay in actually getting something posted today. I’ll write much more about the event, about the sabbatical, about the lessons I took from them and the ideas that have begun coursing through me again largely because of them, but for now, just a few quick top line observations:
It’s not just you. If there is one thing I learned over this past year in general, over this past weekend in particular, even, it’s that everyone is confused and everyone is learning and everyone is terrified and everyone is cautiously/secretly hopeful (if only spasmodically) and everyone thinks it’s just them, and they’d better shut up and keep their head down and try to look normal, or spout some party line hoo-ha about Tough Times. It’s not just them, er, you. It’s everyone. It’s me, and pretty much everyone I’ve engaged in conversation on the topic, a rather wide swath of humanity. (Note: I’ve been taking the bus more recently.)
I am not sure how much of this we can blame on the outrageously sped-up change cycles we’re enjoying these days and how much is just part and parcel of the human condition. What I do know is that if you can take a little risk to let down your guard and float it out there, you’re likely to find someone to help you carry your load. Or at least commiserate over the size of it.
There is no “done.” You will doubtless find this hilarious, but in my naivete I thought of this sabbatical thing as I did muffin-baking: throw a bunch of stuff together in a bowl, add this or that until it tastes pretty good in its raw form, stick it in a medium oven and 35 minutes, or 53 weeks, later, bing! Muffins!
It is not like that at all. In fact, it resembles quite uncannily what I remembered to be the drawing on the cover of The Artist’s Way, an endlessly winding road carved into the side of a mountain, where at every level the view was somehow different, yet somehow familiar. Only it’s not the cover of The Artist’s Way; it’s some other idea of a mountain I’d heard of or dreamt of from somewhere else. Maybe it was “before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”
So there you go: no “done.” Just give that up. (And if you don’t believe me and several millenia of philosophical teachings, check this out. That’s business modeling, baby, no squishy woowoo stuff there.)
The soft things may be the most necessary. This is not the case for you if you are a big lounger on chaises longues, but if you are, you’re not reading this anyway, you’re lounging on a chaise. I hit seven out of ten goals for this past year. (My years now run from mid-February to mid-February, but let’s just say it’s unlikely I’ll publish three books in a fortnight and call it a day, shall we?) All seven were “soft” goals, reading more books, connecting more often with friends, eating right, exercising adequately. That sort of thing. My three token Masters-of-the-Universe goals all tanked. Yet I’ve probably made more progress this one year than I have in the past five or six put together, if we’re going to call “living happily in one’s own skin” a worthy ambition. And I do. And if you don’t, well, I wish you well, but we’re probably going to be spending even less time together in the future. I’m turning 50 this year; I don’t have as much dithering time as I once did.
And finally?
xxx
c
Image by stevendepolo via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.
Welcome back, Colleen! For someone who was “away” I felt that you were with us quite a lot…for which I am thankful. Let me just give a hearty endorsement to point #2 – there is no “done.” I live my life in search of the blank to do list, the inbox zero, the giant, hard-earned sigh that will say “Now-you can go run in the puddles with no guilt and no agenda!” It never comes but there are shades of done-ness and more importantly, acceptance of the murky middle. Congrats on having gotten there.
That “puddles” line pretty much sums it up. Will probably be using that moving forward. With attribution, of course!
Good to have you back Colleen!!
Thanks for being here all along, Marion.
I really needed to hear all three of these things this morning. I hope if I ever get the opportunity to take a sabbatical, I can come out of it with as much insight as you have. Welcome back!
You’ll come out with more, and different.
That’s the beauty of all these people doing things in the open, out on the Internet: enhanced learning capabilities. Well, and feeling like (slightly) less of a weirdo.
Welcome back Colleen. And thank you for all the wisdom you shared over the past year. I too have been moving soft goals to the top of my priority list (for much of my life they rarely made the list) and am seeing some remarkable things unfold. Your down-to-earth path walking continues to be a powerful support. Rock on!
It’s sort of amazing how we swat ourselves away, isn’t it? Clichéd by now, but really, if we treated anyone else the way we do ourselves, they’d never speak to us again.
Boy do I wish there was a “done.” But I’m so glad to know it’s not just me! Thanks and I love your stuff. Welcome back.
Exactly. Thanks!
Glad you had the opportunity to percolate! I’m very much looking forward to “… more about the event, about the sabbatical, about the lessons I took from them and the ideas that have begun coursing through me ….”
Me, too. Although sort of in the way I look forward to writing book reviews: I know it will be a great exercise, I know we’ll all get something out of it in the end, but ugh, it squats gnarliest on my to-do list.
One little bit at a time (tricking the too hard to-do monster).
Welcome back, Colleen. I’m a new-ish reader/fan and just wanted to say thanks for the inspiration.
-terrell
Thanks, Terrell. It feels great to be back.
Wow I knew I should have left a comment this morning when I first read this brilliant summary. But I decided to take your advice and get of my iPhone to go for a run.
So love your words of wisdom here particularly the fact that some things are just never going to be done – nor should we beat ourselves over the head to get them that way.
Now by back – does this mean you’re back but with all these better habits in place?
Natalie
Oh, doing your thing (almost) always comes first.
I don’t think I’m back as a new person with better habits. I’ve acquired a few; we’ll see how they stick under pressure.
Then again, we’re always new people, aren’t we? In a moving-forward kind of way.
i couldn’t agree more…that it’s not just me…or you. it feels like an exciting time though…like just about anything is possible, if we’re up for it. i think you picked a great year to step away. i see and feel a lot of really good energy so far this year (to get a bit woo-woo about it). i look forward to reading how you’re gonna rock 2011. xo
I have wondered that a lot: me? The time? Me and the time?
It seems like a lot of people I know are jumping in with the big change stuff lately. Then again, it could be just the people I—we—know.
Colleen,
Thank you for being you and sharing yourself with all of us!
You are the third person from whom I’ve heard mention of The Artist’s Way. Perhaps that’s the universe telling me to pick the darn thing up and read it already!
You’ve inspired me over these last few weeks, and I have decided that my 2011 is going to be awesome, too!
–Casey
Usually, three’s a charm. But seriously, The Artist’s Way is a pretty terrific resource for self-excavation. Unless you really, really don’t resonate with Cameron’s writing style, it will likely do great things for you.
Colleen, I’ve never commented here before (it takes me awhile to delurk), but this post inspired the hell out of me. Congratulations not only on being back, but for getting gone in the first place.
I think it’s a great book. The writing may or may not be your style, but the exercises are terrific. You’ll learn a ton.
When I was in high school I was always looking to be “done”. I thought that time would come after I graduated university. But then I learned that I’m never “done”, which turns out to be a good thing. When I’m “done”, I’ll also be 6 feet under.
I know, I know. I’ve even said “done!” about certain things. Which I learned is like a big “Kick me, hard!” sign to the Universe.
Whew! I thought it WAS just me. Thank you for putting into words the things we think no one else could possibly be crazy enough to think.