Every day I face the sound of the dilemma around my life's purpose, and I hear it beat louder as time passes.
I sit at my desk surrounded by corporate, legal, and technical documents. I read all the art, photography, and travel blogs from my RSS feed. I sift through all the "how to succeed" and "how to start a business" articles on LinkedIn. I read blogs on design concepts and music. I write restaurant reviews. I take notes on different forms of exercise and how to eat healthy. My Facebook feed is literally a running news source of what is happening in my local dance community. I bookmark poetry websites.
Which leads me to what they call the #1 biggest career mistake that "capable" people make. In The Pursuit of Less, Greg explores the concept of the "highest point of contribution." I frequently explore the theme of being a "jack of all trades." I have written in my journal about various ideas I have to incorporate all of my passions. How do I find the intersection?
I can take two different looks at different parts of my life:
1) Career
2) Dance
1) Career- I definitely tripped over the "biggest mistake." I started off with a HUGE pool of opportunities, and I got ping ponged back and forth between projects in different industries. Instead of standing firm in my vision for what I wanted to, I allowed myself to be pigeonholed into an industry that is stable but one that I have very little passion for. Am I bad at what I do? No. Would I work harder if I did work that I was passionate about? Absolutely, 100%.
2) Dance- This is where I let my passion dictate my path. I dabbled in everything, from hip hop to salsa to ballet to modern to country western dancing. My fascination with Argentine tango was immediate, and I stuck with it. It was incredibly difficult and different from anything I had ever done. Five years later, it is still the only dance that I can participate in every night without feeling restless.
From the article: "If success is a catalyst for failure because it leads to the 'undisciplined pursuit of more,' then one simple antidote is the disciplined pursuit of less. Not just haphazardly saying no, but purposefully, deliberately, and strategically eliminating the nonessentials. Not just once a year as part of a planning meeting, but constantly reducing, focusing and simplifying. Not just getting rid of the obvious time wasters, but being willing to cut out really terrific opportunities as well. Few appear to have the courage to live this principle, which may be why it differentiates successful people and organizations from the very successful ones."
A note from a different article:
"Your schedule makes you dumber. Force yourself outside of your daily schedule. Be curious and take time to learn about worlds outside of the one you live in. Watch the news, read the paper, educate yourself. Don’t be afraid to call people you don’t know, start a conversation, and ask for things you need. At the very least, you’ll be more interesting. At the most, you’ll take your business in new and bigger directions."
The best thing about not knowing what I will actually do is that I spend every day immersed in relationships. I spend every day learning and dreaming about other worlds so that I can incorporate parts of them into my own. I have learned that it's true- it's the people you know. The relationships you make will give you more paths to what you want to do, and even help discover what that is. I ask questions, I offer my time and skills for free, I listen, I show up. I practice showing up. I practice being present with whoever I am talking to. I practice being present to hearing what it is that excites others.
Perhaps my way is unconventional, or! too conventional. but from all of these avenues I try to soak in the lessons that will be applicable when I finally find my "highest point of contribution."
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Labels:
daily,
inspiration,
rk,
work
Friday, December 14, 2012
We jumped in the leaves once,
but there were mostly acorns in the pile.
Our necks were outstretched, looking downward
our hands grasping the air
We waited for exhilaration, but mostly just found mud and
dirt clinging to our shoes.
Perhaps we were too focused on gravity,
perhaps what we were looking for was there
perhaps we forgot to
look up
but there were mostly acorns in the pile.
Our necks were outstretched, looking downward
our hands grasping the air
We waited for exhilaration, but mostly just found mud and
dirt clinging to our shoes.
Perhaps we were too focused on gravity,
perhaps what we were looking for was there
perhaps we forgot to
look up
Monday, December 10, 2012
It's that time of year, when we ponder all our goals and rules for life and what we are grateful for.
--
Daydream Lily's 5 rules for life:
1. All you need is Love. And cameras.
2. A place for everything and everything in its place.
3. Treat yourself.
4. Travel, never stop learning, and question yourself.
5. Wake early. Drink coffee.
--
The Art of Noncomformity's goals:
--
Daydream Lily's 5 rules for life:
1. All you need is Love. And cameras.
2. A place for everything and everything in its place.
3. Treat yourself.
4. Travel, never stop learning, and question yourself.
5. Wake early. Drink coffee.
--
The Art of Noncomformity's goals:
1.
To wake in the morning full of life and energy, awaiting the day with anticipation and purpose.
To step out into the world ready to accomplish a significant task.
To engage and initiate instead of merely responding. To take the active choice that you will make something happen.
2.
To maintain harmony and goodwill in relationships. To follow Shakespeare’s adage: love all, trust a few, and do wrong to no one.
To focus on contribution and engagement instead of withdrawal into yourself. (Tip: When you aren’t sure what to do next, find a small way to help someone.)
3.
To pursue productive, meaningful work. To spend most of your time doing something that you and others find meaningful.
To accept that everything you create will likely be flawed in some way, but to create anyway.
To enjoy the life you are gifted to experience. Not to take it easy, for life isn’t always easy. But to appreciate the present while looking ahead to the future.
4.
To pay attention to how you feel. Not because everything is supposed to feel good, but because how you feel is a good reflection of your overall state of being.
To understand that freedom is choice. To grasp the reality that a world of possibilities are open to you, so you’d better do something about them.
To dream bigger and to pursue the dream. To choose to leap when others hold back. To maintain a standard of surprise and a choice of challenge.
To refuse to settle, and to decline the easy path of becoming a cynic. To find something to believe in and defend it with all your heart.
5.
To align your life with these ideals, continuing to work toward them every day.
To embrace the journey, focusing on the process and deferring the arrival if necessary.
To appreciate what you have without longing for more.
To refuse to rest on your laurels. To accept that what you’ve already done is in the past. To forge ahead!
Labels:
inspiration
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
My obsession with accordions began at a young age.
I really thought I wanted to play accordion, and my parents bought my twin sister and me identical tiny accordions. Tiny accordions for our tiny fingers. Our small house was not rich or fancy, but it was filled with two of the richest things that this world has to offer: books and musical instruments.
I still remember strapping the accordion onto my shoulders and pretending I could play.
My discovery of Julieta Venegas came later (here is her Tiny Desk Concert at NPR). She is tiny and bursting with talent, and she masterfully demonstrates the art of traversing several different instruments during her all of concerts. The accordion always made me feel like it could transport me to another place, another time. It makes me explore the curious paradox of playful seriousness, and the feeling of sitting outside a cafe, or participating as an onlooker to a parade.
Then came Argentine tango. Along the shores of the Seine river at night, I sat in front of the bandoneon player, and listened until dawn. I'm not sure whether the movement or the music lulled me into believing I'd dance tango one day. Perhaps it was the water, or the Parisian night.
I still get lost in the accordion notes. They seem a little bit naughty, but every part innocent. Pushes, pulls, pressing, bellowing, resonating.
I really thought I wanted to play accordion, and my parents bought my twin sister and me identical tiny accordions. Tiny accordions for our tiny fingers. Our small house was not rich or fancy, but it was filled with two of the richest things that this world has to offer: books and musical instruments.
I still remember strapping the accordion onto my shoulders and pretending I could play.
My discovery of Julieta Venegas came later (here is her Tiny Desk Concert at NPR). She is tiny and bursting with talent, and she masterfully demonstrates the art of traversing several different instruments during her all of concerts. The accordion always made me feel like it could transport me to another place, another time. It makes me explore the curious paradox of playful seriousness, and the feeling of sitting outside a cafe, or participating as an onlooker to a parade.
Then came Argentine tango. Along the shores of the Seine river at night, I sat in front of the bandoneon player, and listened until dawn. I'm not sure whether the movement or the music lulled me into believing I'd dance tango one day. Perhaps it was the water, or the Parisian night.
I still get lost in the accordion notes. They seem a little bit naughty, but every part innocent. Pushes, pulls, pressing, bellowing, resonating.
I sat in chairs, different ones around the room
listening to the time passing
listening to the reminders of you
the memories filling the room, pressing against the ceilings.
The sounds of everything,
of you rubbing your eyes in the middle of the night.
of the heat emanating from your hand to my thigh.
of the fan that you turned off.
of the neighbors' children on Saturday mornings.
We were captive once.
No,
not us,
Our desires
held against their wills.
you built that fire from the roots, and seemed astonished when it took to the branches.
We passed each other in airplanes
we met every night on trains in my dreams
You got married one night.
You insisted that to put out fires, you needed lightning.
Words, mostly.
So many words, but it turns out
you had been silent this whole time.
I guess in the end
it was the
Quiet that bothered you the most.
listening to the time passing
listening to the reminders of you
the memories filling the room, pressing against the ceilings.
The sounds of everything,
of you rubbing your eyes in the middle of the night.
of the heat emanating from your hand to my thigh.
of the fan that you turned off.
of the neighbors' children on Saturday mornings.
We were captive once.
No,
not us,
Our desires
held against their wills.
you built that fire from the roots, and seemed astonished when it took to the branches.
We passed each other in airplanes
we met every night on trains in my dreams
You got married one night.
You insisted that to put out fires, you needed lightning.
Words, mostly.
So many words, but it turns out
you had been silent this whole time.
I guess in the end
it was the
Quiet that bothered you the most.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
If you need a kick in the pants, here is Gavin of Zen Pencil's intepretation of Chris Guillebeau's philosophy. Illustration of 11 ways to be unremarkably average.
Labels:
inspiration
“Don’t pack a bag and fly away from home without a plan. Don’t go abroad until you have a project you want to work on, a skill you want to develop – anything more than just a list of countries you want to see.”
Last paragraph is key. As much of an influence as Tim Ferriss was with his book, most nomad lifestyle designers do not tell you that your traveling should be guided by a larger more important purpose that will add value to your life not as a goal itself.
- from here, "Should you quit your job to travel? Probaby not"
Labels:
travel
What I am to you is not real / What I am to you, you do not need / What I am to you is not what you mean to me / You give me miles and miles of mountains / And I'll ask for the sea...
(damien rice)
(damien rice)
Labels:
lyrics
Monday, December 3, 2012
my hair is so long now that i wash it hours before bed, and it stays wet through the night, and even through the next day. some day i will begin a more intimate relationship with my hair dryer, but until then...
-
Luisa Brimble writes here about Synonym Journal.
makes me continue my contemplations on simplifying, decluttering, focusing (re-focusing).
on Synonym Journal:
SYNONYM represents moving toward simplicity, intelligence, and living a life of intention; away from clutter and the expectation of constant content.
This project was initiated out of a mixed frustration and perplexion with our own online habits and the general disposability that exists in the sharing and consumption of digital content. SYNONYM addresses an awareness of the internet's influences on our own work and inspiration; moving with curiosity toward a new way of connecting with others online; and treating this space as if we did not have an unlimited amount of it.
-
Luisa Brimble writes here about Synonym Journal.
makes me continue my contemplations on simplifying, decluttering, focusing (re-focusing).
on Synonym Journal:
SYNONYM represents moving toward simplicity, intelligence, and living a life of intention; away from clutter and the expectation of constant content.
This project was initiated out of a mixed frustration and perplexion with our own online habits and the general disposability that exists in the sharing and consumption of digital content. SYNONYM addresses an awareness of the internet's influences on our own work and inspiration; moving with curiosity toward a new way of connecting with others online; and treating this space as if we did not have an unlimited amount of it.
Labels:
daily,
inspiration,
rk
This morning, I contemplate the active nature of being alone, that we consciously have to exercise our ability to be by ourselves. That it can become habit, even a small addiction, a luxury, to be without another.
I drove home to the sound of someone else's relationship. It's comforting to know that the ideals of love are still alive somewhere.
--
A new exhibit has begun at the Menil Collection. "The Progress of Love explores romantic love, self-love, friendship, familial affect, love of one’s country, and other bonds in and around [Africa]. Though the exhibition is weighted towards art produced specifically about love in Africa, works that might otherwise be considered more “Western” in orientation are included as well, calling attention to the global exchange through which such concepts develop, and to both the shared and distinct aspects of the experience of love."
--
A 16-people table at a 24-hour diner that reminded me of La Vie Boheme in Rent.
--
Restlessness brews restlessness.
I drove home to the sound of someone else's relationship. It's comforting to know that the ideals of love are still alive somewhere.
--
A new exhibit has begun at the Menil Collection. "The Progress of Love explores romantic love, self-love, friendship, familial affect, love of one’s country, and other bonds in and around [Africa]. Though the exhibition is weighted towards art produced specifically about love in Africa, works that might otherwise be considered more “Western” in orientation are included as well, calling attention to the global exchange through which such concepts develop, and to both the shared and distinct aspects of the experience of love."
--
A 16-people table at a 24-hour diner that reminded me of La Vie Boheme in Rent.
--
Restlessness brews restlessness.
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