Project Guilt
I am currently Processing a stack of papers that have accumulated at home.
I set aside some quality time on Saturday to do this. However, a large percentage of these papers consisted of time management print outs, tips, affirmations, etc; then there was a lot of stuff that really only needed to be filed or shredded, and finally there were one or two ideas for fiction writing.
Amongst them, I have found that I have written out the usual list of suspects over a dozen times – "write more, read more, lose weight (at least I got that one done) better quality family weekends," etc etc.
I had approached this stack on Saturday with the expectation that the outcome of my processing would be a recipe for major progress on all fronts that would take me though the next five years. Instead, I find that the melody of “Is That All There Is?” is circling around in my head.
Listening to and reading DA leaves me with the conviction that my life should be a stream of ongoing projects moving with Amazon-like depth and purpose towards some even more excellent future.
But at least I have derived a few positives from the experience of the weekend:
1. I am still just at the implementation/processing stage of GTD in relation to my personal life: in fact, sorting through all these accumulated possibilities is helping me get some clarity at higher altitudes;
2. I have allowed an assumption to creep into my thinking about projects, and that is, that the only projects that are worthy of pursuit are those that will ultimately generate money. This has caused me to feel guilty about my non financial personal goals – "to be well read in a broad range of subjects, to cultivate an attractive garden, to be familiar with great composers etc." I now realise that this assumption was a total dud as it was systematically devaluing the things that matter most to me. (My writing ambitions in particular got badly beaten up by this line of thinking).
Bottom line, I think the problem is that I have completely devalued the things in life that mean most to me because I had evaluated them solely against financial measuring sticks.
I guess I’m not an entrepreneur at heart, but it feels like a major and somewhat risky decision to say that from now on I will not resist committing quality time to my interests. If I can just throw away the financial yardstick, then perhaps all of my projects will blossom and grow.
All in all, I guess it was an unplanned but timely 30,000 foot experience. I suspect that these higher altitude thinking sessions can often be forced upon us by the fact that they are overdue.
Dave
I am currently Processing a stack of papers that have accumulated at home.
I set aside some quality time on Saturday to do this. However, a large percentage of these papers consisted of time management print outs, tips, affirmations, etc; then there was a lot of stuff that really only needed to be filed or shredded, and finally there were one or two ideas for fiction writing.
Amongst them, I have found that I have written out the usual list of suspects over a dozen times – "write more, read more, lose weight (at least I got that one done) better quality family weekends," etc etc.
I had approached this stack on Saturday with the expectation that the outcome of my processing would be a recipe for major progress on all fronts that would take me though the next five years. Instead, I find that the melody of “Is That All There Is?” is circling around in my head.
Listening to and reading DA leaves me with the conviction that my life should be a stream of ongoing projects moving with Amazon-like depth and purpose towards some even more excellent future.
But at least I have derived a few positives from the experience of the weekend:
1. I am still just at the implementation/processing stage of GTD in relation to my personal life: in fact, sorting through all these accumulated possibilities is helping me get some clarity at higher altitudes;
2. I have allowed an assumption to creep into my thinking about projects, and that is, that the only projects that are worthy of pursuit are those that will ultimately generate money. This has caused me to feel guilty about my non financial personal goals – "to be well read in a broad range of subjects, to cultivate an attractive garden, to be familiar with great composers etc." I now realise that this assumption was a total dud as it was systematically devaluing the things that matter most to me. (My writing ambitions in particular got badly beaten up by this line of thinking).
Bottom line, I think the problem is that I have completely devalued the things in life that mean most to me because I had evaluated them solely against financial measuring sticks.
I guess I’m not an entrepreneur at heart, but it feels like a major and somewhat risky decision to say that from now on I will not resist committing quality time to my interests. If I can just throw away the financial yardstick, then perhaps all of my projects will blossom and grow.
All in all, I guess it was an unplanned but timely 30,000 foot experience. I suspect that these higher altitude thinking sessions can often be forced upon us by the fact that they are overdue.
Dave