I am brilliantly efficient. I capture precision strategies. My brand of creativity is unrivaled.
And then I leave the waiting room, the lobby or get out of my car.
See, when I'm forced to sit still, my thoughts unfold into straight lines and sharp edges. With amazing clarity, I come up with opportunities for launching new projects, defining improvements on existing endeavors, consider new partnerships to forge, and recall distant relationships to bolster.
But as soon as I start moving, thangz get fuzzy. Not the ideas, so much; that faucet drips constantly. But the how of it all can get sickeningly coy: where should my first calls go? what kind of advance time do I need? what relationships do I already have in place? who could help pay for this? is this a realistic concept, anyway ...
Once the doubts begin needling into certainty, my thoughts unfold into languid, waving ribbons instead of crisp, hard edges. Makes me think of that Warner Brothers cartoon where the guy discovers a frog singing show tunes ... until they're not alone. Then, "ribbit." No more Broadway, no more high kicks, no more top hat. No more, until they're alone.
Just like me and my bright ideas.
But I'm used to this betrayal. In fact, after decades of working like two or three people, I know that most of the problem comes from crowding my poor brain with too many layers of too many tasks. I've only recently (like, four weeks ago) recognized that I'm reaching my own critical mass and need to engage other folks and resources to keep the machines churning. The rest of the universe saw it a few years ago ... but it's been hard to let go of things without feeling like I'm letting go of the standards and expectations I've set for myself, too.
Poppycock, you say.
Ribbit, I say.
And like the cartoon's stubble-faced man who was determined to get that damn frog to sing in public, I'm fatefully committed to expecting more than the most out of myself. Not perfection --gave up on that when I got a C in Handwriting in the third grade. I just want to be able to realize my every fancy and idea.
What?
It's not like believing in singing frogs or anything ...
And then I leave the waiting room, the lobby or get out of my car.
See, when I'm forced to sit still, my thoughts unfold into straight lines and sharp edges. With amazing clarity, I come up with opportunities for launching new projects, defining improvements on existing endeavors, consider new partnerships to forge, and recall distant relationships to bolster.
But as soon as I start moving, thangz get fuzzy. Not the ideas, so much; that faucet drips constantly. But the how of it all can get sickeningly coy: where should my first calls go? what kind of advance time do I need? what relationships do I already have in place? who could help pay for this? is this a realistic concept, anyway ...
Once the doubts begin needling into certainty, my thoughts unfold into languid, waving ribbons instead of crisp, hard edges. Makes me think of that Warner Brothers cartoon where the guy discovers a frog singing show tunes ... until they're not alone. Then, "ribbit." No more Broadway, no more high kicks, no more top hat. No more, until they're alone.
Just like me and my bright ideas.
But I'm used to this betrayal. In fact, after decades of working like two or three people, I know that most of the problem comes from crowding my poor brain with too many layers of too many tasks. I've only recently (like, four weeks ago) recognized that I'm reaching my own critical mass and need to engage other folks and resources to keep the machines churning. The rest of the universe saw it a few years ago ... but it's been hard to let go of things without feeling like I'm letting go of the standards and expectations I've set for myself, too.
Poppycock, you say.
Ribbit, I say.
And like the cartoon's stubble-faced man who was determined to get that damn frog to sing in public, I'm fatefully committed to expecting more than the most out of myself. Not perfection --gave up on that when I got a C in Handwriting in the third grade. I just want to be able to realize my every fancy and idea.
What?
It's not like believing in singing frogs or anything ...
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