Spreadsheets and Stars – further thoughts on reality and hope

Coaches often are all too familiar with the trials and tribulations of life as a solopreneur. Stepping into the part time work was scary enough when I was on retainer. Stepping into the “eat what I kill” space was terrifying. (Not just because I am still traumatized by Travis Wright bringing a deer leg to show and tell in pre-school!) For my first couple of years of unpredictable income I barely had time to consider what was happening. Money kept coming in through some combination of good work, good networking, and luck, and I managed to earn more than I had in the retainer days. Woo hoo!

I recently entered year three of inconsistent deposits, and I am learning that hope::reality doesn’t just apply to my life with chronic illness. It’s a useful lens to help me think about my approach to securing work and earning money. 

Each year I track my business income and expenses through a document cleverly named “[year] tax”. It is easily my most accessed document, and I look at it approximately ten times a week to remind myself when I can expect my next payment and how well I have to budget what is already in my bank account. This spreadsheet screams REALITY with its neat columns indicating when, how much, and from where my money has/will come.

Reality is:
I need to make X more dollars to equal last year’s income.
I need to make Y dollars total to keep my retirement contributions steady.
I don’t have a fancy advanced degree or a decade of experience, which can limit my options.

There are many other aspects to my reality–from the comfort of a gainfully employed spouse to a very real need for free time to rest and rebuild my body–but when I am leaning hard on this pole I tend to only see dollar signs and closed doors.

When I even consider the word hope, dollar signs become irrelevant. I don’t dream in numbers. I hope I will have more meaningful work in the second half of the year. I really hope to find more clients with chronic illness. I hope the Mindful Self-Compassion course I co-lead has its largest enrollment yet, so more people tame their inner critics. I hope I finally do a Complexity Tools for Folks with MS webinar series. Hope holds my purpose and ambition. And, if I’m really honest, Hope may have some thoughts about my earning potential.

When I focus on reality I don’t dream about the types of work I might do so much as what they will get me. When I focus on hope, I am heart-centered, purpose-full, and dreamy… but things rarely progress beyond the “ooh, wouldn’t that be nice!” stage.

Does anyone else hear a third way coming around the bend–and does it sound oddly like Casey Kasem, late beloved host of the music countdown show American Top 40? From the age of 10 to 14, I listened to Kasem sign off each week with “Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars,” and those instructions come echoing back to me as I consider how to thrive in the paradox of hope::reality. 

Keeping my feet on the ground means the 2024 taxes spreadsheet still has a place in my life, just not a daily place. It means knowing what is likely possible today and taking steps to ensure that work keeps coming to me. 

Reaching for the stars means not always limiting myself to what feels likely possible and making space to dream, calling on those grounded feet to take the steps (yes, this is a mixed metaphor, just go with it) necessary to make those dreams happen. Even the financial ones!

As I finish this particular chapter of my polarity musings, I feel better equipped to make good use of the quiet days ahead. Some bookkeeping. Some dreaming. And some dancing. Pole optional. 

***
Postscript

Hope and reality collided for me recently when a colleague needed a partner for a last-minute east coast gig, coincidentally on polarities. 

Reality had thoughts on this:
He has so many other options!
That client doesn’t want your inexperienced ass!

Also, summer travel is so hard on you.

So did Hope:
Girl, YOU KNOW POLARITIES. 
You could bring sparkle to this group.
And if you plan ahead, you can manage heat.

I reached out. The colleague was excited. I was REALLY excited. Then I spent some time in hot weather and realized Reality’s point about heat was very sound. My sparkle and I are staying home.

A brunette white woman wearing large sunglasses smiles while looking out of a train window
Dreaming of good, lucrative work to come.

Hurrah for Unitasking: In Which Tips Are Shared

Some mornings waking comes hard. Some mornings climbing out of sleep is like slowly pulling myself out of a vat of molasses. Each reach out comes with a slow but irresistible tug back in.

I recently started setting my alarm later in anticipation of molasses mornings. I figure if I am waking up at a time that better suits my body, chances are my body is going to fight me less. This morning I was aroused from my dream-thick slumber by Neal grabbing my legs and shouting, “Good morning Rebecca!” He probably didn’t actually shout, but that is how it felt. I woke in complete confusion, having no idea what day it was, in spite of his next words being “The cleaners are here.” 

(Yes, once a month I pay someone to clean our home. This is  one of those MS concessions I fought and fought before giving in and loving it.)

I quickly sat up, took my morning pills, made it to the bathroom on un-stretched legs, and catheterized on my first try against the odds. I called for clothes, dressed slowly, and was ready to head out for coffee and pastry, which is my very favorite way to start a day. I know breakfast should be packed with protein and vegetables and good stuff, but nothing brings me joy like a cappuccino and chocolate croissant. These things usually energize me mentally, if not physically, but today it’s just not happening.

Breakfast of champions!

When we got home, I eventually made my way to the bathroom and, in a move I have executed successfully many times, pulled my phone out of my back pocket as I prepared to sit on the toilet. However, due to morning cog fog and the exhaustion of being outside in the heat, I promptly dropped my phone into the toilet. The good news is that the phone is water-resistant and I mustered the brain power and dexterity to fish it out quickly.

Why am I telling you this? You already know about MS fatigue. You know that I’m not a morning person. You know I pee a lot. And as much as my charming anecdotes may amuse you, I do try to give each blog post something of a point. The point today is this: unitasking is where it’s at, especially for folks with MS. I spent years of my career touting what a brilliant multitasker I was. And perhaps I indeed was. I don’t know. I have trouble remembering what I had for dinner yesterday, so calling forth what kind of a worker I was when I was 34 is a challenge. But here’s what I know as a 44-year-old–doing one thing at a time helps me in so many ways, and I forget to do it constantly. I regularly get one leg into a pair of jeans only to pause to check my lipstick or my phone. Had I taken a moment to remove my cell phone from my pocket and place it on the bathroom counter before sitting and taking care of business this morning, things would have gone much better.

This transfers to non-euphemistic business, too. If I leap into work without a plan, I am a distracted mess. If I deal with one thing at a time, I’m fairly efficient. And clear headed, which is a rare and beautiful thing. So here are my tips for uni-tasking at work.

celebration
How cute is she?!

Start with a list. 

I manage my to-dos with Asana, which allows me to color code tasks and view them in calendar format. (Bonus: it also occasionally awards me with a flying narwhal of completion, which I find weirdly satisfying.) Each work day begins with a scan of existing tasks followed by a review of email where I add things to the day’s list rather than bouncing between email and Asana and the tasks themselves.

Tackle one thing at a time. 

Yes, this is the essence of unitasking, but it is nearly impossible as notifications pop up on screen and my brain helpfully butts in with “Don’t forget to post to Linkedin!” while I’m doing client work. I will allow for a pause to add something to Asana, but anything more will derail me.

Limit notifications.

Social media engagement is often the only thing keeping me from curling up in a ball and surrendering to the self-pity chronic illness can inspire. Each like and comment buoys my spirits, but compulsively checking them makes me distracted and useless. So I keep my phone within reach but face down and DO NOT open Facebook or Twitter when I’m working. (Now Linkedin? There’s a lovely loophole!) I’ve changed my Outlook settings to eliminate the little pop up windows that notify me that a message has just come in from someone I really shouldn’t drop everything to reply to. And if I really, really need to focus, I’ll close Slack.

Tame the tabs. 

Remember when internet browsers opened to just one page at a time? How simple life used to be! I’m currently writing in one tab with two coaching-related tabs, my personal email, my calendar, and the fabulous Made in DC shop all open and vying for my attention. Not good, especially when I’m working. Stick with the essentials. For me it’s the calendar, Asana (obvi), and whatever is immediately relevant. Anything else? Shut that shit down.

Keep a notepad handy for personal stuff. 

Working a flexible schedule from home means work and life (a false separation but we’ll let that go here) end up in a sloppy relationship. It is far too easy to think “Oh I should send a quick email to Mom” only to get sucked into the vortex of my personal inbox for half an hour and then have to figure out where I left off with work. My personal business notepad is always at the ready to receive my brain’s random firings to ensure I neither forget them nor am I derailed.

It isn’t a perfect system, and I don’t always heed my own advice. I sure do better when I do, though, and I’d love to know what you do to stay focused.

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