So Much Time, So Little Done
I have the joy of participating in a no agenda Zoom group with some other guys. The very first meeting we all agreed that we seemed to have a problem being motivated. Here we are staying home with more down-time than any of us could remember and we each wondered why we were not getting very much done. We could not seem to find ways to self-motivate and get off the couch.
I had certainly noticed that in my life. I had joked to friends that procrastination was my best way of getting through the isolation. Every day I would think of some job I needed to do and then decide to do that tomorrow and take a nap. Somehow deciding to procrastinate seemed like an accomplishment. I told a friend that I had put off changing the sheets on my bed until they crackled when I turned over and kept awake.
After the meeting I began to give some serious thought to the issue. I talked with other folks and it seemed like everyone I talked to had some of that same problem. I am certainly not an expert, but I have come up with a couple or so ideas about the “what and why” this is happening, and perhaps something we can do to help a little. Understand, I am a lot better at being a problem mentioner than I am a problem solver so give this the old “grain of salt” approach.
The lack of motivation could be explained by an old book called Parkinson’s Laws of Business. He lists one law as, “Work expands to fill the time available for its completion.” His illustration is that if you have twenty minutes to write a letter you will do so in twenty minutes. If you have all day to do so, it will take you till noon to find a pencil. So, part of our problem could be just that simple. Too much time somehow means much less done. I like that explanation a lot it reduces the guilt of my naps.
But then there could be a little deeper issue involved. There is a form of depression that does not reveal itself in being sad. It reveals itself in no feelings. Feeling detached and emotionally flat. We function but our emotions don’t seem to be involved. If this wasn’t a family blog, I would say our “give-a-shit-er” is broke.
I think this is the result of isolation. When we are no longer interacting with people and issues, and even problems, our emotions are not stirred or fired up. Perhaps they become dormant from lack of use. It is like the old saying if you don’t use it, you lose it. Day after day of no interaction or emotional responding leaves us detached and sort of emotionally dead.
I have just gone through an experience involving a struggle with motivation and emotional flatness. I was scheduled to present a Webinar recently. I spent every day for the last two weeks before it trying to get motivated to write the thing and put it off every day. I spent even more time wondering and worrying about my attitude and lack of interest in even doing the presentation at all and I am the one who thought up the idea and volunteered to do it. The webinar was about grief which is my major wheelhouse and I ho hummed the days away and even began to dread doing the presentation at all.
Then I realized I was emotionally flat. I live alone so I really have no contacts that fire my emotional response. So, I had to find a way to find some fire.
I hit on an idea that worked for me and may work for some others as well. I began to set aside an hour every day possible to do what I call feeding my soul. I stop everything and just listen to the music that stirs my heart. The first day I went on YouTube and heard Bette Midler sing “The Rose”, then heard Vince Gill weep his way through “Go Rest High on That Mountain” at the funeral of George Jones, I heard Eva Cassidy sing “Over the Rainbow” and hurt because she died so young. I wrote the speech the next day and don’t feel emotionally dead anymore.
Maybe the lesson is something has to feed our souls. Un-stirred, the fires of caring, enthusiasm and love become dead coals waiting for a new spark to come alive again. Evidently, in isolation, finding the spark is an inside job.
Some old philosopher said, “If I only had two loaves of bread between me and starvation, I would sell one and buy a rose to feed my soul.”