Terra Incognita - The Physics of The Quest

"What is it about the American obsession with productivity and responsibility that makes it so difficult for us to allow ourselves a little time to solve the puzzle of our own lives, before it’s too late?" ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

I've been seriously re-examining my life's motivation.

While this sounds very grand and epic, I must admit that I'm not actually ruminating very deeply on my actual "end goal", the proverbial sum total of my life, but rather how I choose to live every bland little moment in-between now and... then.

I'm wondering about what makes me choose to add a particular task to my list - and what makes me execute some of these internal commands in such a brutal fashion? I do work that I love in an environment where we are encouraged to prioritize, reorganize, set goals and work harder & smarter. Is this cruel or unusual? No, not at all. It is natural and admirable. Yet it's in the acting out this task oriented diligence that I'm finding a metal roughness that seems cold and stifling.

During the "Coping Digitally" session at the Northern Voice conference at UBC last weekend, Todd Maffin quipped that above all, society values busyness. I can't agree more. As long as we strive, as long as we dive headlong into our work we can convince ourselves that we are quickly approaching that illusive and infuriating "successful life". It's a delicious combination of harried, almost guilt-free, martyrdom and denial. Yet there is always that niggling feeling that something is still missing, if only there was more efficiency, more discipline, more time.

Sometimes when I encounter people who are tremendously inspiring to others in their field, I wonder how they maintain balance. I often assume that these high octane people driven to excel and accomplish feel as though they have something to prove, that they are accomodating for some perceived short-coming. I have met successful people that were work-acholics, alcoholics or just plain overly self absorbed. But then there are those rare few who seem to be "unencumbered" by pressures of any sort. I feel envy of when encountering either type, but there is a certain amount of satisfaction to be felt when meeting the first type of power-person. Sure they are at the top of their game, but are they happy? Ha! That nice holier than thou sensation is pretty warm and fuzzy... The second kind maintains a cool, casual respectibility whilst pulling off regular feats of utter brilliance (effortlessly?) not seeming to care a flying fig about the opinions of others. This begs the question of whether it truly matters if you are motivated by fear (pushed) or by love (pull). Does the emotion we evoke as we create our lives colour the outcome?

I don't know the scientific answer, but I do know that when I let go and let myself feel the ridiculous utter joy of every silly insignificant moment and trust, simply trust that all is unfolding as it should be, I feel as close to my best self as I have ever have. When I collect a whole day's worth of these silly little moments in my thoughts, they suddenly feel very ripe and profound and I feel wholly grateful for each of them.

In the world of artists, creativity and self imposed suffering have gone hand in hand for centuries. In an entertaining TED speech, author Elizabeth Gilbert explains in how artistry has not always led to anguish talking about how creative people might manage the emotional risk of the creative process not always going as they had planned.



I wonder if we are finally getting a faint whiff, the barest pheromone of an idea that things could be different for us. Different, and yet somehow familiar. (Like maybe this has all happened before and will all happen again?) I'm seeing more articles in mainstream magazines about how to balance our lives. People are interested in how to live self-actualized lives.

Perhaps it is time to take the ego out of the equation entirely, instead of anxiously chasing potential achievements, to begin focusing on living each moment in an infinite rally of inspiration. The cognitive equivalent of truly accepting and loving the one (thought/action) you are with.