This Is Not Working
by Ruth Ann Harnisch on 02/15/10 at 11:46 am
Day 46
The temptation to “work” today is stronger than at any time since the beginning of my sabbatical.
I resisted most compulsions to tweet and blog TED2010 . My output at TEDGlobal2009 was prodigious by comparison.
As expected, I connected with some of our grantees, but also as expected, that was a joyful reward, not workwork.
Today I am powerfully pulled toward activity I would call “work,” and this is my declaration to resist.
Here’s what I feel drawn to do: I want to spend hours going over my TED notes and photos. I want to make more notes, and organize things, and follow up with everyone. That’s work.
But even more than all the details, I’m bursting with an urge to spend hours writing, writing, writing about all things TED.
Why not go ahead and do that? Because I know that, for me, such expression is not really “expression.” It’s work. It’s reporting, and that was my work.
I am committed to reflecting.
So if I choose to take out my notes today, it will be for reflection, not for reporting.
I’ll probably end up reporting on my reflections, right?




6 Comments
Nassim Assefi
Feb 15th, 2010
Dear Ruth Ann,
I empathize. My head has been full of TED and TED-like activities, and I only watched by Livestream while supposedly on a digital lite holiday. I did sleep about 12 hours on Saturday night–as if my brain cells needed the extra time to absorb it all. What if you only pondered the notes and blogs that resonate with Ruthie’s personal development/self-catalyzing, not RAH the journalist or philanthropist or coach? For me, it would be reflecting on Daniel Kahneman’s remembering self (what will my personal narrative be at the end of this chapter?) or Marian Bantjes’ playful valentines (to whom will I send hand-crafted valentines next year?) or David Rockwell’s deeper motivations for his work on play (why am I a thrillionaire or obsessed with understanding humanitarianism?)? These questions don’t feel like work–at least not to me.
Thank you for the honest disclosures and open searching of your blog. I am loving it despite not being fond of the form in general. I’m following it regularly even when my internet time is limited to 30 minutes every 3 days. Thank you, too, a thousand times over for making the gift of TED accessible to people like me.
xx Nassim
J.A. Ginsburg
Feb 15th, 2010
Hello,
I may be off track here, but I have been following your tweets for some time and to the extent that it’s possible to get to know someone via 140 characters or less believe I have come to know you, at least a little bit.
I can really appreciate the idea of a sabbatical to shift gears, readjust perspective, fine tune. But to quote Ken Robinson, “For those who enjoy what they do, that isn’t what they ‘do’ – it’s what they are.” It is truly a blessing when the lines between work, pleasure and identity braid is such a gorgeous way.
So why are you fighting it? If you’re “bursting with an urge,” that’s not drudgery or obligation, but joy and, in a way, art. Whether or not you share your observations – “reporting” – is a separate issue.
People talk about living as if each day were your last. Frankly, having held the hands of a few people on their last days, it’s rarely seems to be their best day… But the gist is the gist: Make the most of life while you have the chance. God forbid anything should happen between now and the end of you sabbatical, but what if you *don’t* have the chance to think and spend hours and hours and hours writing about things for which you have deep passion? What’s the point?
You know why you’re doing what you’re doing far better than I. If this makes no sense at all, delete immediately!
all best,
Janet
Ruth Ann Harnisch
Feb 15th, 2010
Dear Janet,
Thanks for inspiring tomorrow’s post!
And thanks, too, for reading and thinking and responding and daring to share. I really appreciate your thoughts.
Ruth Ann
J.A.Ginsburg
Feb 15th, 2010
…and now i can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s post turns out to be!
best,
Janet
Nassim Assefi
Feb 15th, 2010
Oh, what a wonderful way Janet has expressed this–how the lines between work, pleasure and identity can blur or braid together for those of us who love what we do. I had a similar discussion with another TEDster a couple months ago. This is what he said (it resonated so much with me that I have kept the message and periodically reread it):
“The truth is, I have given up on the notion that for people like us there is something like ‘life outside of work’. I’m not even sure that there is ‘work’. There is just ‘life.’ Most of the time I don’t feel that I’m doing a ‘job’; I just feel that I’m doing what I want to do, what I like to do, what I’m good at. What other people call ‘work’ is for us an elective activity, a calling fueled by passion, not by the need to earn a salary. In the end, lots of my friends revolve around my work, and a lot of my work revolves around my friends.”
This begs the question of why a sabbatical is necessary and useful, especially one where doing “nothing” is the goal rather than learning a new skill or redistributing the time for certain activities. Perhaps you need space from the routine of all you’ve been doing so that you can be sure you really do love what you do and would choose it again. Missing something gives us perspective on how much it means to us, right? Or maybe you want to work/be/do things from a more intuitive place rather than because you’re used to doing them, feel obliged to do them, enjoy them and/or excel at them. Or maybe you want to devote time to other things, experiment, play, rest. Or all of the above. Or maybe none.
I was pre-med since the age of 8 (initially to please my immigrant parents) and found I quite liked being a doctor and was well suited for it. But it was only 10 years after being a practicing physician and taking a complete year break from medicine (I studied music and wrote instead) that I realized how much I missed medicine, loved it, needed the feeling of direct service and connection to the community that being an amateur artist didn’t fulfill for me, and never wanted to have that distance again. The sabbatical did make me realize that I didn’t want to practice medicine full time, that I needed to leave space for my creative interests to feel replenished and fully giving. So the time off was incredibly useful for that alone and oh so much fun.
It was interesting to see how Stefan Sagmeister presented his year of sabbatical at TED Global’09. He spent most of his time justifying it and showing its outcomes rather than explaining how he spent his sabbatical, how he chose what to do and not to do. I look forward to your next posts–further clues into how you’re doing sabbatical and why, as well as these pearls of wisdom in the form of your blog posts that have come from deviating from your routines. Have secret desires become clear? Do you feel healthier and happier? Are you spending your time the way you thought you would be spending it pre-sabbatical? For how long will you be on sabbatical and what will your “success metrics” be? I’m sure the answers will become clear, whether you choose to post them or not.
In the meanwhile, I hope you’re having great fun. xx Nassim
Instant Creek
Feb 16th, 2010
Just thinking about this seems like work. If I may make a suggestion……
Go to the store and get a bag of sunflower seeds. Go to the bakery and get several kinds of fresh baked goods. Scatter the seeds outside where bird feeding will be visible from your favorite window. Savor the fresh bread while enjoying the view.
The thought of a warm, crusty baguette takes me to my happy place.
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