There’s no shortage of people who want to tell us how to live our lives. I think this is most true for those of us who run our own shows. It does not build much confidence when almost all of us are, to say the least, flying by the seat of our pants.
As a newly minted 53 year old I realise more than ever how much I don’t know. Which gets me to the point of ‘guilt’ as it relates to us self-employed folk. (That’s about 85% of all businesses).
A young boy watches a painter for a few minutes before asking if he can try. The painter gives him a roller and a few tips. The kid’s older brother arrives and after a moment says “That looks terrible. You’re doing a terrible job” Without a pause, the eight-year-old responds “Well, of course, I’m just learning. This is the first time I’ve ever done this.” (Adapted from Blind Spots: Why Smart People do Dumb Things by Madeleine van Hecke.)
Wouldn’t it be great if we could approach life with that sort of attitude? It’s an approach where there are no mistakes, only learning experiences. I’ve had my fair share of those, and a few were world-class. The learning part we carry with us for life. The guilt part we should lose quickly.
All of this bubbled up this week. On Monday night my tummy began to effervesce. By Tuesday I had lost a kilogram (good) and slept for 20 hours. By the time I woke up the kids had started fighting about who would get the Apple laptop.
They’d also started a contest to see who could hear Dad’s tummy the furthest away. I am told that Dani won when she ran outside and into the garden of No. 43. (We live in 39.) And, I understand I achieved some immortality when she yelled out, in Norwegian, that she could still hear Dad exploding. I am now known locally as Krakatoa (bad).
But the worst part? I felt guilty about missing a day off work. Ignore all the weekends, and the 20 hour days worked over the past 30 years. Isn’t that really silly?
Yet I see this in almost all the folk I talk to. We’re quietly getting on with paving our own way. Paying the bills most months is a pretty good record. (Paying them every month is an astounding one.) And throughout this we’re guilty that we’re not doing better, or working harder.
If it helps any, I deeply admire anyone who is in business for herself or himself. It’s frightening, and exciting. And the score doesn’t really matter. The fact that you played the game does.