What we need right now: revisioning success 1.0
I'm awake early and there hasn't been an interruption for ten minutes.
It's only 7am.
I am on-guard.
I feel irritable, I feel disoriented. I feel lost.
As a deep thinker and sensitive feeler, I am easy to have my attention hijacked when trying to focus and accomplish thoughtful work. I don't know how I made it through years in a chaotic TV newsroom with daily deadlines.
This past week I was reminded of my newsroom days.
I was attempting to get work done from home with two young kids also home all. day. long.
With their multiple overlapping zoom calls, endless homework assignments, and DIY craft projects, I found myself trapped in what felt like a European train station with multiple schedules and a set of echoing loud speakers with announcements on the regular.
There is some statistic I recall reading about how many minutes it takes our brain to refocus after being interrupted. Something about 15 minutes. But who has 15 minutes to refocus when your kids demand your attention every ten?
"Mom, my call's done. I'm hungry."
"Mom, I can't hear the teacher."
"Mom, what do I do now?"
"Mom, where's the charger for the iPad?"
"Mom, mahwwwwm, MAHWWWM!!!"
Since when did mom become a verb?
I try to follow the parenting advice: don't respond to your kids the first time they call out for you. Let them try to resolve things on their own.
This advice doesn't work.
Your kids will track you down like a blood-thirsty wolf on a cold winter night.
(And yes, the bedroom closet where you're hiding to write that newsletter is their second stop after first checking the bathroom.)
You can't hide, mahhwwmmmm.
After enough interruptions and zero recovery time to refocus, the brain starts searching for something, anything, to fulfill the yearning to be productive.
I resolve to order those beeswax food wrap things I've been coveting.
Just as I'm price-comparing some ridiculously overpriced but conscience-calming eco-friendly gadget, the four-year old comes into my office and asks me if he can sit on my lap.
I'm so close to completing this mind-numbing task and now I've lost my focus...again.
This is when I begin to feel battle weary. I blame my partner for getting to leave the house for his work. At least he gets to drive in his car on his own for 45 minutes to and from work. Only thing is that he works in one of the country's busiest and most Covid-full emergency rooms and has to wear a mask, shield and gowns for eight-hours straight.
So, then I descend into a darker place of dread.
I blame myself for not being able to make things work.
I'm not organized enough, I should stay up late after the kids go to bed to get work done. I'm privileged...
Enter the self-judgment.
Okay. Enough.
It's time to evolve this impossible definition of success and productivity. The big job with the big money and the busy lifestyle with all the things. Who said this success was any good to begin with, even pre-Covid?
Well, now we might really reconsider what we want and what we're willing to sacrifice to get it.
Now might be the time to reflect, to get quiet and still and consider what really means success to us, on our terms.
This is a question I've been contemplating for the last ten months and I'm writing to invite you to join me in this exercise of bravery and curiosity.
What if the success we thought necessary to feel worthy is no longer required? Now what?