What I’m learning thru W.A.
I’m learning how to get control of my life, realizing that letting go of control puts me in control. When I go with the flow and submit to the calendars and agendas of others, I’m no longer a slave to the task at hand. I built this thing called HM magazine. From the ground up it became what I wanted and even more so. Many of the changes were good and improvements, but the perceived workload became a taskmaster that I surrendered to.
I longed for the days of 1990 thru 1993. I had a healthy cash flow to where I didn’t have to worry about expenses. I didn’t do any weird things, like go nuts and buy or spend big, but I could go shopping for office supplies, which were all business expenses. I got a cool joy out of that. The simple pleasures in life. Then HM grew and I hired more staff to help. Soon I found myself buried under emails and letters. Most of my day was maintenance, it seemed and it wasn’t as fun as the creative side. I only got to enjoy the creative side in the midst of concentrated work times known as deadlines.
I think back to march of 2011. My lovely wife said it “was one of the best months of our (20 yr) marriage.” What was that month like? Lots of spontaneity. Lots of dropping my work and going out with my wife to look at property (we had just put our house on the market and got a contract in only two weeks). Of course, at some point I had to “catch up” on the work I was putting down, but it thrilled me to know that my wife enjoyed that time with me. I enjoyed it with her, too.
Why can’t I live in those moments? 1990-1993 and March of 2011 were rewarding. I wasn’t a slave to HM. I was the happy owner.
How did I let a good thing get sour?
It got sour. I had evidence that my workaholic ways were costing my family. It was costing them time with their husband and father. It was costing me relationship, intimacy, moments to remember. Little things (not the big ones – it was easy to make all the big commitments – everyone knows they are important, except the severely enslaved workaholic who is just long gone and about to crash) are the stuff of substance. Little things sometimes seem unimportant (when you’re chasing fame, fortune, worldwide impact, even discipleship and evangelism). The little things I missed by answering 100 more emails or editing another story – my face being glued to a notebook computer monitor screen – those have piled up and cost me.
I’ve lost something so valuable to me that I can barely communicate it without tightening up with emotion. I’ve lost my family.
Now maybe it’ll be clear why I’m taking workaholism and Workaholics Anonymous so seriously. My workaholic dysfunction has cost me dearly. I’m mad. I’m furious. I cannot believe what a toll has been taken on my life. I actually give a (bleep) about this stuff. Maybe sharing my suffering so openly and vulnerably will awaken a warning siren in your mind and/or your heart.
If you can see any out-of-balance tendencies to overwork in your life, pay attention! You do not want to pay the price I have. Trust me on this. STOP! Slap yourself in the face, get a grip and tell yourself that you’re going to do something.
The thing about workaholism that’s tricky is this: living in this world means you cannot abstain from work. I guess if you’re extremely wealthy or blessed enough to retire, then you have it different than most of us. But we all have to work. It’s keeping it in balance that’s the key.
One of the things we do in W.A. Meetings in Austin (don’t worry, I’m not going to share anything personal about anyone else – that’s one of the beautiful and “safe” things about anonymous recovery meetings – what happens here and what is said here stays here) … is we read from various books, like Workaholics Anonymous Book of Recovery and some meditation-al books. One we often read from is called Meditations for Men Who Do Too Much.
Today’s devotion/meditation says:
Life is just one damned thing after another.
–Elbert HubbardMost of us gentlemen who overcommit are men who don’t have a lot of fun. We don’t play very much or very often. Laughter is a fairly foreign language. We don’t engage easily in what some call “small talk.” Oh, we have our golf outings, our tennis game. But more often than not it’s all part of the day’s work. Lunch with clients. Drinks with potential business partners. Golf with the boss. Days turn into nights, and life is mostly just one damned thing after another.
Is too much work and not enough play making us dull boys, as the saying goes? Worse, are we making those who love us unhappy, as they wait on the sidelines for the fun we once promised them to begin?
Today, I’ll plan to take some time to browse in a bookstore or read Sports Illustrated, rent a movie or take a walk, but I will not give up 100 percent of my day to work.
I like reading someone else’s perspective like that. It reminds me that I’m not the only one making these mistakes or struggling to balance career and family. I remember watching a Michael Keaton movie about a reporter that lived for his deadlines. It was called The Paper. Marisa Tomei was the woman he loved almost as much (more or less?) than his job. I remember fighting inside, screaming, “That’s not me! I haven’t become that guy!” Turns out I was wrong. I became that guy.
I hate that guy. I wish I could punch that guy right in the stomach and make him double over in pain and listen to me as I shove a finger in his face and sternly speak truth into his life.
I’ve crucified that guy. Would he like to come off the cross? Sure. Can he? Well, sure, if I let him. But I’m angry now. I’m setting up boundaries in my life. I’m learning some tough lessons. They are million dollar lessons that are almost motivation enough (they probably are), but I’m not stopping there. I’m going to make myself accountable. I’m not going to repeat those mistakes.
Is it too late to save my family? Not on your life. What can I do? I’ve got the tools. Working this recovery process will help. I’ll do my part and hope for the best.
Have I shared too much? Probably. Will I re-think about posting this before I click that post button? A few to several times, I’m sure. Will I delete it shortly after posting? Maybe. Part of me is willing to get naked (share all this info, nothing to do with clothes, I assure you) in order to help others. Sometimes we have to go through mistakes to learn, but sometimes someone shares their pain and their experience and it gives you motivation not to make the same mistake. That is my prayer for you.
I love the photo at the top of this post. I like it on a couple levels. One, the black & white vibe harkens back to the classic LIFE Magazine photos of the ’60s. On another level, I think it captures my workaholism in action.
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