There's a thing about my job with this charity. It's amplified, I think, by every heartbeat with which I truly believe in what I am doing, in who I am working for. It's this inability to keep work and life separate, at all, because the two things live together in my heart. They share real estate, so there isn't such a thing as moving from one to the other at the end of the day.
There's not such a thing as leaving anything at the office, because for one thing my office is my house, so I'm literally always in it. But for another, the work isn't about place, it's about what's taking up space in my thoughts, in my heart. I have a photo above my desk of the AFC kids when they were small. It's tacked up with the little handmade cards and pictures they've given me over the years. So that when things get hard, I can look up and be forced to remember why.
I read something lately about this "do what you love, love what you do" mantra. I believe in that concept in a sense. But it sounds so breezy, like doing what you love means you're just hanging out riding on endorphins all the livelong day. That would be some strong kool-aid.
This past weekend we had a big fundraiser in Los Angeles, and there were so many wonderful things about it. I had the chance to work with some really good people, to share a story and cause I wholeheartedly believe in. The team there did a good job and people came and understood the mission and supported and that was great.
I also missed a lot of sleep, missed my kids, missed the only weekend J has off this month. As happens in life, there were also glitches and issues and problems, and in the end I'm home still dealing with those things and I'm entirely exhausted. I'm feeling a little defeated, discouraged, overwhelmed. In all honesty? I feel like quitting. I want to pack up and go be a hermit on a mountain somewhere and stuff my fingers in my ears and sing "LALALA!" to just completely drown out the world. I would bring a lot of chocolate.
Haven't we all had those days? Maybe not the hermit thing. But days when it feels like your best is not enough? Like there's never going to be an end in sight where it will be enough? When we feel like quitting.
I feel about this job much the way I feel about parenting. I love it. I love it. I love it deep down to my core, out my fingertips and toes and through the atoms of each cell in me. I want to be here. I asked for this, and I jumped for joy when it happened, and I feel it is my great privilege and honor and joy to get to do this with my one life. I. Love. What. I. Do.
But that is the easy part.
The hard part is not the loving. It's the doing. It's the part where even when I feel like quitting, I just... don't. It's the part where I'm so tired, in my body, in my heart, that I can't get out of bed in the morning. But- for the things I love- I do. It is rehashing the same issue with the same people on the phone for hours and hours when I was supposed to be at dinner with my family. It's staying up all night going over the books and the math again and again. It's telling my son for 500th time to please sit down in the bath tub. It's cleaning the pee off the floor. It's enforcing the rules when I'm too tired to talk, and wondering what I'm doing wrong that I really have to explain again why we don't jump on the trampoline with pencils in our hands. It's laying down finally at one am and popping right back up to soothe a nightmare. It's stopping what I'm doing- even if it's something very important to me- to ooh and ahh over the leaf She found with the orange spots, because that's something that is important to Her. The hard part is doing what I love.
No matter how big and how sincere my Love is, for my work, for my kids, for the people and things I care about, there are times I fail them. There are times I feel like I have no business doing anything for anyone, and times I really think the hermit thing with the chocolate has got to be the way to go. Things are hard sometimes. Even the ones I love. Maybe especially those.
I won't do everything right or take everything in stride, and I certainly don't expect to be kicking back with my kool-aid riding those perpetual endorphins anytime soon. I'm tired and I have heartburn and someone else's snot is in my hair and I've been yelled at a lot today. But when my alarm clock goes off in the morning, I'll will get up, and just start moving.
Because I love what I do, I do what I love.
There's not such a thing as leaving anything at the office, because for one thing my office is my house, so I'm literally always in it. But for another, the work isn't about place, it's about what's taking up space in my thoughts, in my heart. I have a photo above my desk of the AFC kids when they were small. It's tacked up with the little handmade cards and pictures they've given me over the years. So that when things get hard, I can look up and be forced to remember why.
I read something lately about this "do what you love, love what you do" mantra. I believe in that concept in a sense. But it sounds so breezy, like doing what you love means you're just hanging out riding on endorphins all the livelong day. That would be some strong kool-aid.
This past weekend we had a big fundraiser in Los Angeles, and there were so many wonderful things about it. I had the chance to work with some really good people, to share a story and cause I wholeheartedly believe in. The team there did a good job and people came and understood the mission and supported and that was great.
I also missed a lot of sleep, missed my kids, missed the only weekend J has off this month. As happens in life, there were also glitches and issues and problems, and in the end I'm home still dealing with those things and I'm entirely exhausted. I'm feeling a little defeated, discouraged, overwhelmed. In all honesty? I feel like quitting. I want to pack up and go be a hermit on a mountain somewhere and stuff my fingers in my ears and sing "LALALA!" to just completely drown out the world. I would bring a lot of chocolate.
Haven't we all had those days? Maybe not the hermit thing. But days when it feels like your best is not enough? Like there's never going to be an end in sight where it will be enough? When we feel like quitting.
I feel about this job much the way I feel about parenting. I love it. I love it. I love it deep down to my core, out my fingertips and toes and through the atoms of each cell in me. I want to be here. I asked for this, and I jumped for joy when it happened, and I feel it is my great privilege and honor and joy to get to do this with my one life. I. Love. What. I. Do.
But that is the easy part.
The hard part is not the loving. It's the doing. It's the part where even when I feel like quitting, I just... don't. It's the part where I'm so tired, in my body, in my heart, that I can't get out of bed in the morning. But- for the things I love- I do. It is rehashing the same issue with the same people on the phone for hours and hours when I was supposed to be at dinner with my family. It's staying up all night going over the books and the math again and again. It's telling my son for 500th time to please sit down in the bath tub. It's cleaning the pee off the floor. It's enforcing the rules when I'm too tired to talk, and wondering what I'm doing wrong that I really have to explain again why we don't jump on the trampoline with pencils in our hands. It's laying down finally at one am and popping right back up to soothe a nightmare. It's stopping what I'm doing- even if it's something very important to me- to ooh and ahh over the leaf She found with the orange spots, because that's something that is important to Her. The hard part is doing what I love.
No matter how big and how sincere my Love is, for my work, for my kids, for the people and things I care about, there are times I fail them. There are times I feel like I have no business doing anything for anyone, and times I really think the hermit thing with the chocolate has got to be the way to go. Things are hard sometimes. Even the ones I love. Maybe especially those.
I won't do everything right or take everything in stride, and I certainly don't expect to be kicking back with my kool-aid riding those perpetual endorphins anytime soon. I'm tired and I have heartburn and someone else's snot is in my hair and I've been yelled at a lot today. But when my alarm clock goes off in the morning, I'll will get up, and just start moving.
Because I love what I do, I do what I love.
