Break up from hustle culture: A continuation.

Break up from hustle culture: A continuation.
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"Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

We live in the era of the hustle. Of following our dreams until the finish line and then pushing ourselves, our creativity, the things we love more and more. 

I've even gone to the point of romanticisng getting back in the game DURING burn out - the sensation and surprise that there is more fuel in the tank even though the dash is blaring alarm bells for me to pull the fk over.

We have landed in a world where we feel obliged to capitalize on the rare places where our skills and delight intersect.

If you're good at it, you should sell it. If you're good at it and you love it, you should absolutely sell it.

That’s not to say there isn’t joy to be found in turning something you love into your career

Ive done it - am doing it — it’s just to say that it’s okay to love a hobby the same way you’d love pet, or your garden; for its ability to nourish your life without any expectation that it will help you pay the rent.

What would it look like if we allowed ourselves to devote our time and attention to something just because it makes us happy? 

I'm not meaning to shit all over my hard work (or yours) but to ponder would i still choose to do it, if things were different?

{backstory: Im in a unique position where there is slow down signs on my small biz journey. I can see light at the end of the tunnel - not the end of the adventure. next year My familys survival won't be solely on my, and my creativities shoulders (i could weep). To finally be able to envision my artistry without the insane hustle- i may melt into a puddle - lets not get it twisted. i love what i do but im not going to tell you its been easy!  (i am so proud of what ive accomplished and committed too, damn. But like, a SECURE paycheck from Marky is going to change the gaaaaaame }

 

So I pour myself another cup of matcha, post an inspirational meme, hold my breath and abide by the motto of Rise and Grind. Convincing myself that I am divorced from the 9-5 that "we arent like them" and the entrapuneral life is full of freedom. (which it is, but youll also be working 24 hours a day- even if you love it)

Loving my work is true, but struggling to see my friends, leave the house or go to an event is also the truth.

We use all of our soul-ness to create the product, build the website, brave the internet, sell ourselves, our lifestyles, our creativity.

 But if we choose to capitalize on all of our resources, when do we get to choose ourselves?

Whenever I have some time to myself, I freak out. Unstructured time — especially spent alone, not working or with the kids— is so rare in my life and I feel an overwhelming obligation to make good use of it.

I should get some laundry done. Prep dinner. Spring clean the playroom. Write some emails. Work on those new designs. Tick that to do list. Do a face mask. Go for a walk. Maybe I should just get back to work?

But instead, I deal with my option paralysis in the least helpful way possible: by scrolling through my phone until I run out of battery (literally or figuratively) and put myself to bed feeling like I’ve lost something precious.

((hence the recent break up with social media)  - i do find myself still in option paralysis FYI but i stare at the clouds in the sky, or sometimes the ceiling instead - and i think thats the lesser evil in this scenario.)

 I can’t be productive, and I can’t fully relax, and I can’t possibly be alone in this. 

I spend that middle hour of the day when my children rest or listen to audio stories, Fluttering and flustered, about the to do list and how can I possibly get something finalised. Exhausted from the morning of managing wild willed toddlers in outdoor spaces, and guilty of never not getting enough done. It’s not worth pulling out the tools, especially the loud ones and if I even try and open the laptop I know there will be a small body clambering on-top of mine begging to watch something in a matter of keyboard taps. And so I hide in plain sight from my own children, out of their way so we don’t possibly disturb each other in our restful spaces. (Mines more like restless) 

I’m in this new season of my life where energy feels to be sputtering out in the evenings. And i find myself often in the middle of knowing I must hustle - because this is the avenue I am currently residing in and full body yearning to rebel against it with the anarchy of doing absolutely nothing.

Cue the paralysis. 

We don’t have to monetize or optimize or organize or create content on our joy and our time and our quiet spaces. I'm re-learning this myself. After years of turning my life into an instagram feed. I'm learning that i can, and should keep parts of me. Just for me. Things i love deserve protection and consecration

Hobbies and our creative process don’t have to be imbued with a purpose beyond our own enjoyment of them. Our own secert slice of dopamine, just for us. It dosnt need approval from the greater world. When making art, the audience comes last. Let it be for you, first and foremost and let that be enough. - I'm excited about that time coming for me. 

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