I learned a really valuable lesson today. It was a lesson I thought I had mastered and put behind me forever. Apparently not.
This past weekend we went to Maine to stay at a client’s beautiful home on the coast. Meg, Bodhi, Rita and Ed drove up early Friday and I followed a few hours later on the Triumph after I wrapped up work. I had checked the weather forecast for the weekend and took the chance that they were wrong (it’s New England remember? Wait 5 minutes and it will change). The ride up on Friday was cold and misty, but no rain. Saturday and Sunday however were a different story. It rained both days and by the time we had to leave on Sunday I made the call to ride home with Megs & Co. and leave the motorcycle in the garage in Maine. I figured I’d come back up later in the week when the weather was better and ride home enjoying it. The clients rent their house out on weekends so I wasn’t keen on leaving the bike up there indefinitely. You get the idea, right? Take a half day mid-week and enjoy the slow way home along the ocean. I’m my own boss right?
Well that word “enjoy” was absent today. I caught a ride up with the client who owned the home this morning. That part worked out fine. My business has me very occupied with writing proposals and managing my crew on the 3 or 4 projects we have going on. Right now I have four jobs on my desk that need to be priced, with one that I promised the client I would have ready for tomorrow. My days are very full yet I usually welcome the chance to take a mental break. Somehow today was different. The guilt trip had begun.
I couldn’t shake the voice in my head telling me I “should” be working. My guys are out there working hard, what about me? I should be in the office not out joyriding. How am I going to get all this work done? Certainly not by riding my motorcycle along the coast of Maine. What if clients call me while I’m riding? Should I park my truck somewhere else besides in front of my office? You have a client moving in Thursday and you don’t have your C of O. Isn’t it selfish to take this time off? I felt like a fugitive from my business.
Like a tape looped and running continuously I listened to it all day long. I stopped for coffee before I got on the road and couldn’t sit still and enjoy the sunshine and quiet moment. So I suited up threw out my half finished coffee and started the trip home. Except it really was the guilt trip home. The whole ride I kept pressing to hurry up. I found myself impatiently passing the slow cars and not really seeing and experiencing the beauty around me. Pressing, pushing, moving forward further into my trip, seeing less and less as I rode home.
By the time I got home without stopping I was cooked. Not from the ride. I love the feeling of being on a motorcycle. It exhilarates me. The feeling I had when I wheeled up to the house was serious exhaustion. My mind had taken over the ride. My body obediently followed. It amazed me when I finally realized how un-present I had been all day and how hell bent I was on making me pay for my choice to take time off. I didn’t think I still had that link to guilt inside me. I figured I was done with wasting my energy that way. But I clearly saw how I didn’t resolve the decision to take 5 hours and enjoy the brief respite from work. By not resolving it right away I opened the door for guilt to sneak in and sabotage a beautiful day. Work my dear friends will always be there. Seventy degree sunny days on a motorcycle might not be…
So today I took a guilt trip.
Next time I’ll take a different trip. My inner travel agent will make sure I choose better.
Keeping the rubber side down, and the eyes wide open…
J
This past weekend we went to Maine to stay at a client’s beautiful home on the coast. Meg, Bodhi, Rita and Ed drove up early Friday and I followed a few hours later on the Triumph after I wrapped up work. I had checked the weather forecast for the weekend and took the chance that they were wrong (it’s New England remember? Wait 5 minutes and it will change). The ride up on Friday was cold and misty, but no rain. Saturday and Sunday however were a different story. It rained both days and by the time we had to leave on Sunday I made the call to ride home with Megs & Co. and leave the motorcycle in the garage in Maine. I figured I’d come back up later in the week when the weather was better and ride home enjoying it. The clients rent their house out on weekends so I wasn’t keen on leaving the bike up there indefinitely. You get the idea, right? Take a half day mid-week and enjoy the slow way home along the ocean. I’m my own boss right?
Well that word “enjoy” was absent today. I caught a ride up with the client who owned the home this morning. That part worked out fine. My business has me very occupied with writing proposals and managing my crew on the 3 or 4 projects we have going on. Right now I have four jobs on my desk that need to be priced, with one that I promised the client I would have ready for tomorrow. My days are very full yet I usually welcome the chance to take a mental break. Somehow today was different. The guilt trip had begun.
I couldn’t shake the voice in my head telling me I “should” be working. My guys are out there working hard, what about me? I should be in the office not out joyriding. How am I going to get all this work done? Certainly not by riding my motorcycle along the coast of Maine. What if clients call me while I’m riding? Should I park my truck somewhere else besides in front of my office? You have a client moving in Thursday and you don’t have your C of O. Isn’t it selfish to take this time off? I felt like a fugitive from my business.
Like a tape looped and running continuously I listened to it all day long. I stopped for coffee before I got on the road and couldn’t sit still and enjoy the sunshine and quiet moment. So I suited up threw out my half finished coffee and started the trip home. Except it really was the guilt trip home. The whole ride I kept pressing to hurry up. I found myself impatiently passing the slow cars and not really seeing and experiencing the beauty around me. Pressing, pushing, moving forward further into my trip, seeing less and less as I rode home.
By the time I got home without stopping I was cooked. Not from the ride. I love the feeling of being on a motorcycle. It exhilarates me. The feeling I had when I wheeled up to the house was serious exhaustion. My mind had taken over the ride. My body obediently followed. It amazed me when I finally realized how un-present I had been all day and how hell bent I was on making me pay for my choice to take time off. I didn’t think I still had that link to guilt inside me. I figured I was done with wasting my energy that way. But I clearly saw how I didn’t resolve the decision to take 5 hours and enjoy the brief respite from work. By not resolving it right away I opened the door for guilt to sneak in and sabotage a beautiful day. Work my dear friends will always be there. Seventy degree sunny days on a motorcycle might not be…
So today I took a guilt trip.
Next time I’ll take a different trip. My inner travel agent will make sure I choose better.
Keeping the rubber side down, and the eyes wide open…
J
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