Why do we take on projects? Why do we seek movement and fear stagnation? I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. Why is it in our nature to have an occasional target to aim for? We all prompt ourselves with projects all the time, often subconsciously. It could be as simple as a new recipe you heard about or a new book you’d like to read, or it could be as complex as a fully fledged business you attempt to build, everything that you find yourself driven to do that is neither asked or required of you by someone else or otherwise some kind of obligation but fueled only by your own personal desire or whims, that is a project.
So why do we get this sense of restlessness when we fall into the uniform pattern of daily life we’re used to for so long? It naturally varies by person, for one person that “so long” may be a few days while for another it could be months, in the end we all eventually get an itch that can only be relieved by having a clear defined goal and at the very least attempting to reach it. That is most definitely a project.
It has nothing to do with boredom; I’m never bored when I am at home and the idea of a quiet evening or a slow weekend sounds like absolute bliss. However I’m always aware of a faint ringing at the back of my mind that very slowly gets louder and louder as the days go by and doesn’t seem to go way until I actually get up and do something that breaks this cycle of uniform obedience to my daily routine. The nature of what a project to me also changes every time. One time the target was to learn coding and publish a website, another time it was to take my first solo trip across Europe, there was also that one month period where I worked exclusively night shifts where I made it my mission to build a fully functioning Sudoku game on Microsoft Excel (this was by far the most frustratingly difficult project I’d ever given myself).
I’m not saying all of these projects ended up being successful or were even worth my time (except my prized Excel Sudoku, I absolutely nailed that sucker!), and most definitely all of those that did succeed were flawed in one way or the other, but they all enriched me one way or the other (even if it took me way too long after the fact to realize it).
So what happens when you get too comfortable with the itch, when you give in to the restlessness and the ringing in your ears grows too loud it becomes a screech so loud it deafens you completely to it’s calls for movement? I’m afraid this is where I’ve found myself lately. The hunger to get up and do something is still there, I even have ideas for projects I can do right now. The washing station in the attic needs a makeover, my office needs to be renovated, my closet needs to be rearranged, heck I even need to start building this damn blog! All things I have the tools and plans for, yet I simply don’t.
Is it the nine to five? But I’ve always had that. Perhaps the burden of parenthood? Could be, but that seems too easy, definitely not a solid excuse. Is it fear? There is definitely some of that. I just need to decide which is more important to me, the cause or doing something about it? I choose the latter, at least for now. I need to rediscover the fleeting yet powerful joy in simply the act of starting something new, and this can only be done by experiencing that feeling again, and being reminded of its importance.
Just by writing this I now know what needs to happen, I simply need to start something without fully planning it. The goal is not to build something bulletproof that will win the admiration of everyone who looks at it, far from that. I just want to feel myself get up, roll my sleeves, and start working on something. Who knew that writing this will give me homework?