I have answered the phone six times today. That’s it. In fact, that’s all I’ve done for the past week and a half. Some days the phone rings more, sometimes it rings less, but on average I would say six is the lucky number.I’m temping while I’m home as I put together some money and prepare for the big move. And so, for the next few weeks, this is likely to be my life. Now, I’m not complaining. If someone wants to pay me $12 an hour to answer an average of six phone calls a day that is just fine with me.
However, I do seem to be filling the role of “just in case” girl as I sit in a reception lobby that no one passes through. I think I’m here “just in case” someone ever needs someone else to do something, or an extremely important person magically walks through the door, or the entire world simultaneously decides they need insurance this instant and the phone starts ringing off the hook
The other day when the administrative manager was preparing to step of out her office for an hour she fully briefed me on how to evacuate the entire building and all of its employees, “just in case” a four alarm fire broke out and we were all trapped on the first floor of the building while she was gone.
As well as being the “just in case” girl, I’m close to 99% positive that most of the employees think I’m a moron and that answering the phone six times a day is literally all I’m capable of. Amusingly, the same admin manager who instructed me on how to evacuate the building yesterday also bestowed upon me the responsibility of calling building maintenance with a question because she wanted to “give me some experience.”
Now, relating humorous anecdotes about the tediousness of my temp job isn’t really the point of this story. The point is this: I am trying with all my might to accept, and even enjoy, this tedium.
Think about this, how many times have you said to yourself, “If only I had some free time, I would love to do XXX.” I have. Many, many, many times. The issue I’m faced with now is that I, amidst the hours upon hours of free time I find at my disposal while sitting at this desk, cannot bring myself to do much of anything. Instead I play game after game of solitaire (ironic?), all the while telling myself, I’ll quit after I win the next game.
Here’s my problem: I am only motivated to do things when I don’t have the time to do them. I thrive on having a schedule packed so tight that I have to ram as much as possible into any free gaps if I want to get things done. Need to drop something off at the dry cleaners? Well I’ll do that on my lunch break while I grocery shop and call the bank. Want to get some reading done? I’ll do that on the train while I put on my makeup.
Truth be told, a day where all I have to do is take something to the dry cleaners is terrifying; so terrifying in fact that I might not actually do it.
Now, I don’t think I’m unique in this way. I know a lot of other Type-As who are only really truly fulfilled when they don’t have time to breathe. But here’s the thing- this is a trait that I’ve never particularly liked about myself. Yes, I think it’s great that I’m efficient and an achiever, but how do you think I feel when there is nothing to achieve? It makes living in limboland (as I am for the moment) unbearable.
While it’s crucial to have goals and dreams and to be pursuing ideas and challenging yourself, this constant pursuit of achievement that is so prevalent in our culture can only leave us unsatisfied. If you’re always chasing achievement when are you celebrating those things you have already accomplished?
And so it is with me. I have always felt that if I am not achieving I’m just taking up space. That time spent doing anything other than checking something off my to-do list is meaningless. That if I’m not constantly moving towards something, I may as well not be moving towards anything.
In my acting classes in college, I always had trouble being ‘present’. In one movement class in particular, while other students described what they experienced during an exercise, I shared how the only thing running through my head was everything I had to get done after class. Now something similar happens when I practice yoga. Even as I try to quiet my mind little distractions always seem to find their way in, keeping me from enjoying the delicious present.
“When you are open to the present moment,” I once heard in a class, “what comes in, is a gratitude for "what is".
And so? What is?
What is, is that I’m at home in California spending more time with my family than I have in a very long time.
What is, is that it’s beautiful and sunny outside.
What is, is that I answer the phone 6 times a day.
What is, is that I have time to read, and write, and go to yoga whenever I please.
What is, is that is that plans for the move are (almost) sorted.
What is, is that I am loved.
What is, is that I am happy.
And really- isn’t that all there is?
