While flipping around the television stations I came upon a show called "Shark Tank." Five self-made millionaires decide whether to invest in inventions of real people who display their wares and ask for cash.
On the surface, this seems like entertainment that would never capture me. I cringe when people are publicly rejected or shamed. But these millionaires--at least three of them--are pretty nice. And so I watched (twice, thus far) transfixed, imagining myself showing up, toting something so obviously needed by society.
I'm not sure what that would be; but that's hardly the point. I get a deep gratification watching people working hard at a dream and believing in it. Last night there was a particularly intriguing product--a toddler-sized chair (with seatbelt and eating tray) attached to the front of a rolling suitcase. Wheel the kid and the clothes and have a hand free for an iced double macchiato. But of course! (FYI, they got a deal.)
I've had many work-related dreams and followed several, not all--but then, making one wish come true means letting others go. There was my accessories businesss I quit when I became a writer. Hat business, same. I quit my sweater business because I had no faith in myself, or my choice of work. I was young then, and didn't understand that if I loved it that meant everything.
My present day life. My product is myself--I take much of what I do for granted. And that's not good. This week, quite by accident, I entered "beginner's mind" when working on an essay. I printed it out, then ran out the door to go somewhere; while waiting for the bus, I took out my pages, read, edited, wrote, got all jazzed up. I remembered my process--how well I work in between doing other things. Some need silence to write; I need life bustling around me.
I'm not talking about multitasking because my focus at those times is total. I need to do that again today; take my pages while I'm on route to someplace. Get involved. Miss my stop.
On the surface, this seems like entertainment that would never capture me. I cringe when people are publicly rejected or shamed. But these millionaires--at least three of them--are pretty nice. And so I watched (twice, thus far) transfixed, imagining myself showing up, toting something so obviously needed by society.
I'm not sure what that would be; but that's hardly the point. I get a deep gratification watching people working hard at a dream and believing in it. Last night there was a particularly intriguing product--a toddler-sized chair (with seatbelt and eating tray) attached to the front of a rolling suitcase. Wheel the kid and the clothes and have a hand free for an iced double macchiato. But of course! (FYI, they got a deal.)
I've had many work-related dreams and followed several, not all--but then, making one wish come true means letting others go. There was my accessories businesss I quit when I became a writer. Hat business, same. I quit my sweater business because I had no faith in myself, or my choice of work. I was young then, and didn't understand that if I loved it that meant everything.
My present day life. My product is myself--I take much of what I do for granted. And that's not good. This week, quite by accident, I entered "beginner's mind" when working on an essay. I printed it out, then ran out the door to go somewhere; while waiting for the bus, I took out my pages, read, edited, wrote, got all jazzed up. I remembered my process--how well I work in between doing other things. Some need silence to write; I need life bustling around me.
I'm not talking about multitasking because my focus at those times is total. I need to do that again today; take my pages while I'm on route to someplace. Get involved. Miss my stop.
