Recently, my husband hired a gifted handyman to help us with some work on about 40+ mini-projects around the house that we have neither the space or skills to get done.
In a word, it was WONDERFUL.
The person took his time getting to know the goal of every project and to make sure it was done thoroughly and correctly. He was out for perfection, not speed.
We had a particularly stubborn garage door that had been broken for decades before we bought the house. He took the act of fixing it like how I imagine Michelangelo took on the David. Thorough. Thoughtful. Frustrated. Defiant. Victorious.
The end result may not have been as beautiful as the David. But it was significantly more functional. A door that opens and, get this, closes smoothly. Both!
The only time he lost patience.
At one point, he was fixing a sliding door that was broken in ways that didn’t even make sense to him. He found himself looking for various parts at miscellaneous locations. I didn’t even know there were places in this city that sold door handles that weren’t big box stores. But he did. And thank goodness.
He joked with me that he was losing his patience with other drivers as he drove around trying to find these very specific pieces. He said he never loses his patience with the work itself. But he can’t stand any of the parts around it.
”I love what I do, but I don’t love the work around it,” he explained.
That resonated with me.
My gig is different, but my perspective is similar.
As a speaker who tours across the country, every booking has a different request or requirement. There’s rarely consistency. And there’s so much paperwork. Forms, registrations, taxes, tiny little boxes to check.
In order to get gigs, I have to be my own salesman constantly hocking my wares to anyone who will listen. It’s not my nature to scream “Me me me!” (despite being an onstage personality…which is strange, I realize). I have top create and produce the marketing. Know the audience. And then hold emotionally steady when hundreds, nay thousands, of people often snarkily go “nahhh.”
Then top that off with the actual logistics of getting from gig to gig. The bookings require flights, childcare, parking, rental cars, routing, meals, etc. A lot of this is helped by technology, but it’s by no means a failsafe.
My company is big enough to keep me busy but not big enough to justify outsourcing this to another person (yet!).
I’m a creative and a performer by nature. Left on my own, I’d happily spend my days in the imagination world in my own head writing, making up stories, playing out characters, and entertaining on stages for as many people as I could get to show up.
Never do my wildest dreams ever include paperwork.
So when I heard “I love what I do, but I don’t love the work around it,” I got it.
But I also get the balance.
The two aspects feed each other. I appreciate the creative play more because of all the work done to support it. And the focus I’ve learned through understanding the foundations and structures of the business have help me to hone in my creative messaging even more effectively.
They improve my impact. They inspire my creativity.
Life is duality. Plurality. Balance. The dance. Riding the wave. Then swimming back out to wait for another.
One side can be more fun than the other. But both are equally important.
