“Change is time consuming, expensive and rarely happens on schedule.”-Seth GodinI did something different this summer. Scratch that. I did a lot of things different this summer. But here’s the big one: I didn’t live at home. I could have, but I didn’t.I mentioned my month-long trip to New Hampshire back in May/June. That was the beginning of it. My plan was to shake out cobwebs, reevaluate how I spend my daily life, and return with new habits and perspective. It worked. Sort of. I spent the first 20 days of that month in detox from my workaholism, not really thinking or doing anything that related to my habitual daily grind. Then, right near the end, I attended a poetry slam and open mic full of more than 30 talented writers. It sparked my thoughts, and I took the long way home that night. At 3 AM, my brain was on perfect fire with plans for what I wanted long-term, and how I could affect my daily life to be more rewarding. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I spent it at a 24-hour Dunkin’ Donuts with a cup of coffee and a notebook, writing down every last detail. I was going to exercise before work every day! Attend literary events twice a week! Dance! Listen to business audio tapes with an ipod as I walked the city after lunch! Take a class in Flash animation! Read the Wall Street Journal! Stop drinking coffee and alcohol! Learn the subtle details of investing and accounting! Study small business law! Join associations! Attend at least one good networking event a week! Maintain perfectly-updated To-Do lists! Join a church! Become an active contributing member at BlogHer! Schedule time to be a valuable friend and family member! Practice yoga and meditation! And then, in my freetime, I would work. The plan was perfect!I spent the following morning explaining every last detail to a very good friend over breakfast, who kindly smiled and nodded and told me I was right on. I’m sure I looked like a raving psycho by that point, thriving on passion and no sleep, but it was worth it for the moment of clarity. When I got back to San Francisco, I was armed with a written plan for a new life. I dropped my suitcases, looked around my apartment and home office, and heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally! I can work 24 hours a day again! That vacation was way too long!” I called a former client for a web hosting estimate, and he asked if I could start working full-time on a project the next day. On-site. An hour and a half from my home. “Sure!”A week went by before I remembered why I needed to take that vacation in the first place, and what I had learned from it. Apparently I didn’t clean out quite enough cobwebs when I left town.
So when a friend of mine in Oakland needed a subletter for August, I volunteered. And to make sure I wouldn’t be lazy and stay at my own place, I offered my home to a friend on the East Coast, who flew out for the free vacation spot. In exchange, she cleaned and reorganized it for me, and helped me pick out some new furniture. She did a damned good job at it, too — thank you, Julia!While I was in Oakland, I downsized my workload and spent my time planning new business strategy. While I love doing freelance HTML work, I also have the skills and knowledge to take full responsibility for complex website projects that require complete teams. So I’m assembling a collective firm to have the infrastructure needed to do that. That takes research, discussion, and the wrestling of demons — things that are a lot easier to do when you’re already uncomfortable, living in someone else’s home. Change is about momentum. The big shakeup ended yesterday, when Julia left town and I found myself standing in my home office with suitcases once again. This time, there was a new desk in the corner. I make no promises to myself that I will now live in perfect harmony with my physical, financial, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual needs. Or that I will proceed with my changes exactly as I planned. But I know myself better now.And that’s something.
Self-Inflicted Discomfort and Change (or, “How I Spent My Summer Vacation”)
