So, the eighth passenger is the (day’s) first houseguest, eh?
A few posts ago, I wrote about the difficulty of figuring out what The Thing You Can’t Not Do is when you’ve spent most of your life avoiding doing things.
A couple of posts ago, I wrote about the moment when I finally discovered what it really felt like to get something I didn’t care about out of my life.
But getting out is all well and good – how do you know when you’re doing the opposite?
I’ve been Googling this game a lot.
There are some varying opinions on whether this will be a working, entertaining (in which sense “entertaining” equals “frightening”) game, but the one thing I love to read about are folks’ war stories from playing previews at various conventions and trade shows.
In Getting Out vs. Giving In, pt. 1, I introduced an idea I’ve been nutting out about the things we invest ourselves in that aren’t really for us, and that we can tell the difference between them and the things that really matter by figuring out whether we’re getting out or giving in.
I’m focusing the content of this post on the first idea: How to tell when we’re getting out of something that doesn’t matter. And I’m doing so by talking about a very recent example: my realisation, after over two and a half decades in the hobby, that I needed to get out of tabletop roleplying games.
I only realised the irony this morning.
I’ve been blogging advice over on Paid to Play from various folks about doing one thing at a time. I’ve even blogged in text and video about stating small.
Yet I’ve not been following that advice.
I think it’s the pressure to be earning an extra income as quickly as possible. I ought to be doing more, exploring every avenue, levering every capability, every skill.
And like every “ought” and “should” ever, I’ve been breaking my back trying to impose an idea on a world that it doesn’t fit within.
Now it’s time to narrow my freelancing endeavours down.
I’ve read a lot of advice about pursuing your dreams in my time, and one piece of advice I’ve often read is: Do the things you can’t not do.
The problem is, I’ve spent a whole heap of my life not doing things. Procrastinating, making excuses, finding distractions, going off on tangents and whims.
That could mean that I just haven’t found what I can’t not do yet. That I need to keep looking.
But it could mean, though, that I’ve grown accustomed to giving in? And if I have, how do I tell the difference between something I don’t care for and my habits taking me away from The Real Thing?