I enjoyed having a day off yesterday (it was Labor Day here in the States). I ended up doing yard work, fixing things around the house, and getting a bad sinus headache. Thankfully, my awesome wife knows all about headaches and how to get rid of them!
But there will be more work to do when I get to work, and even more to do when I get back home. The pile of work never seems to end, even though I’m plowing through it at record pace.
I bemoan the fact that I don’t have time to write more, or make music, or whatever. The truth is, I just don’t have time to do everything. This is a recurring theme in my life, and I write about it often because I’m still struggling with it.
Deep down, I know what I have time to do. But I want to do more. But why?
Is it because I want to impress people? That’s not really it.
Is it because I’m looking for acceptance? Part of me does.
Is it because I’m trying to prove I can do it to doubters? Sometimes.
Is it because I have amazing ideas and I’m the only one who will bring them to life? This happens frequently.
Is it because I feel useful when I’m doing things, and useless when I’m not? Yeah, that’s definitely part of it.
Is it because most of my crazy ideas would be ridiculously fun? Yup. Definitely part of it.
So what happens when your own drive to do things short-circuits your ability to do simple, necessary things, like study, play with your family, and mentor your children?
Is it because I want to be someplace, or somebody, that I’m not? Is it because I wish I could achieve more with what I already have?
I think we’re getting closer….
Maybe deep down, I’m still trying to prove I’m not lazy to my fourth-grade teacher who ridiculed me in front of the whole class because I didn’t remember to do my homework. I was too busy climbing trees and riding my bike to care about some stupid math problem I already knew how to do. I was teased because doing what everyone else was doing was boring. My entire grade-school experience was nothing but disappointment, boredom, and loathing, basically until I discovered music and literature.
However, I’d like to think I’ve moved past the “approval” stage a long time ago. Even if that weren’t the case, surely I’d have accomplished enough by now to prove the doubters wrong.
Maybe it’s because over the years, I’ve trained myself to accomplish things by just forcing myself to finish it. I basically compensated by just going all-out, and being as awesome as I could, all the time. Because who can call me lazy with all the awesome things I’ve done? Even when I’m resting and say, playing a video game, I’m trying to be awesome at it. Nothing I do is boring, otherwise I’m just not interested.
But being awesome all the time is difficult. No- it’s impossible. It’s hard work, and it takes sacrifice. And as awesome as I think I am, I’m not awesome enough to do everything. Heaven forbid, I might act like a regular guy and go to work and watch TV and just be normal. But I’m not normal, and my subconscious knows it. It’s a furious slave driver. But really, even that isn’t the reason.
I joke about being a supervillain, because they’re not bound by things like obligations and rules. When I’m riding my bike, I’m free. When I’m creating something amazing, I’m free. Everything else fades into oblivion, and I’m just free- I commit completely to my act of freedom.
But in the real world, there is no such thing as 100% freedom. I look at my co-workers and think “those poor schmucks, working from paycheck to paycheck, they’re not really free!” But the truth is, I’m not free either. I’m still there working a job, still obeying (most of) the rules, trying to provide for my dependents, trying to get enough sleep, working to keep my family running.
I can rule out “freedom” because that’s not really achievable. So what else drives me?
Being responsible is emotionally draining for me, because it’s hard work. I have to continually concentrate on what I’m supposed to be doing, and what I need to do next. It doesn’t come naturally. It’s like carrying an oxygen supply everywhere I go… it’s kludgy, intrusive, and annoying, but I know I have to have it to survive.
When I’m using 100% of my brain capacity, I’m happy. It recharges me, because I throw caution to the wind and I dive in, head-first, in typical ADD fashion. All my senses are engaged, everything is humming, and I will forego eating and sleeping to keep that feeling going. I’m “in the zone.” Even when I read my kids bedtime stories, I do it with ridiculous voices and sound effects, because that actually takes more of my brain capacity. I’m like Johnny 5 in Short Circuit. I’m always looking for more input. I have a 100MPH brain in a 55MPH world.
But nobody can do this all the time, not even a pseudo-supervillain like me. And I have responsibilities that require me to snap out of “the zone” and do practical things, like fix the car, or mow the lawn. (I could build a robotic lawn mower, I know how! But…) I have to come up for air and breathe from my oxygen supply, or I’ll pass out from the strain. It’s not healthy to ignore responsibilities.
Sigh.
So I go through life, waiting for that chance to use 100% of my brain, to go into “the zone” and taste the euphoria of submerging myself completely in a problem, or project. And I enjoy it while it lasts, even though there’s always this nagging in the back of my mind saying “you know, you’re going to have to come up for air eventually.” But I dive deeper, reach farther, push the envelope of who I am and what I can accomplish, for no other reason than “because I can, and I love doing it.”
I’ve realized, finally, that I’m not trying to “accomplish” a certain amount. There is no “good enough” because I’m not doing it for that reason. I have nothing left to prove to anybody. I could quit right now, and nobody could say I haven’t achieved great things. My “freedom” is something that’s non-attainable. My fourth-grade teacher probably has Alzheimer’s and doesn’t even remember who I am.
I’ve gotten better at doing shallow work, and saving the big dives for projects that can’t be done any other way: NaNoWriMo, producing an album, learning a new skill, building something that’s never been done before, or pushing myself physically past a certain limit. Being able to limit my “deep dives” has probably saved my marriage more than once.
But I’m diving into brain-engaging projects because I thrive on the challenge, whether or not I actually succeed. I just can’t stay away. I don’t think I’ll ever get to where I’ll stop diving into projects, because it’s who I am, and how I’m wired.
I just have to remember to come up for air.