Out Of Office currently runs at a loss. The weekly content and the majority of events are free, because I believe all self-employed women deserve support. By becoming a Patreon you can help keep all of this free, and as a thank you, you’ll gain free access to the monthly webinars and accountability sessions with like-minded women. If you can’t afford to support it each month, you can also make a one-off Ko-fi donation.
Happy Monday, Colleague!
Thanks to those who came along to Friday’s Work Together session. I really enjoy the combination of accountability and community that comes with chatting/working alongside one another, and running it on a Friday got my weekend off to a lovely start. I’m hoping to run more of these in the future, so keep your eyes peeled.
This week, I want to talk about the stories we tell ourselves when it comes to work.
On Tuesday I came downstairs to get breakfast and found my husband, Ross, absolutely gloating.
“I’ve done a workout and then had a coffee in the garden,” he announced, as if it was the zaniest scenario he could imagine. He’s also self-employed, and for years, he’s been telling himself that the only way to have a productive day was to roll out of bed and start work around 6.30am. (A hangover from a particularly demanding project, where early starts were a necessity.)
Recently he’s been making some changes to the type of work he does, and his scheduling (in part because of some very skilled nagging on my part) to start taking a slightly more holistic view of things. And, in what should be a surprise to no one, carving out some time for rest and exercise hasn’t diminished his productivity. If anything, it’s helped.
Now, of course it seems obvious, but this is such a good example of an embedded internal narrative about work that I couldn’t help sharing it. I imagine that everyone has at least one slightly mad rule about work. And I’d also imagine it’s harder to spot them when you’re self-employed and there’s no one to pull you up on them (unless you have me as your wife).
So consider me your very own nagging wife this week. I’m inviting you to trawl through your work patterns and actually question some of the things you do on autopilot. Start to notice the ‘shoulds’ and ‘can’ts’ that you apply to your average working week.
It could be small things — perhaps you always break for lunch at 12.30 even if you’re not hungry or are on a roll with a piece of work, because that’s what you did in a previous office job. Or you start the day going through emails and you’ve never considered moving them to later on, even though perhaps you’re buggering up your most creative hours with admin. Maybe you ‘couldn’t possibly’ consider a random day off, even if there are no pressing deadlines and the sun is finally shining.
But there are bigger, more life-altering narratives too. For example, the ones that are about future gazing (and of which I am the master). When it comes to predicting doom on the horizon, I am a crystal ball away from full fortune-teller mode.
[I was going to say Mystic Meg and I just realised how dated that is, meaning a) I am very old and b) we need more pop culture examples of astrologers… Nonetheless, all hail our crystal queen:]
Within my field (journalism) I am constantly bemoaning the imminent death of the industry, to the point where even decent, regular work can stress me out (‘because what happens when that magazine folds??’) Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not the healthiest landscape out there, and some of this fear is based on experience (including redundancy). But, and it’s a big but, there’s a difference between being pragmatic and paralysed. Yes, it’s unpredictable — but that can also mean new opportunities as well as closures. Ultimately this ‘story’ induces panic, and makes me less productive or able to find solutions.
One thing – possibly the only thing – that’s been a positive side-effect of the pandemic for me, personally, is it’s helped me get better at living in the moment. That’s been something I’ve both consciously and subconsciously resisted for years. I am queen of forward planning, while also being high empress of nostalgia. The present always felt too fleeting to care about. The excitement/success/joy of life was to be found in the future.
At the start of lockdown, the animal part of me kicked in. I started to feel tight-chested when I imagined being trapped in the house for months on end. So the way to comfort myself became: ‘It’s just today. Today isn’t scary. Just do the things you need to do immediately, and don’t worry about tomorrow.’ Don’t get me wrong, this was – and remains – difficult for me, but ultimately I am starting to find the practice beneficial, particularly when it comes to challenging the ‘my industry is doomed and I will surely starve and die’ narrative.
Another example of a story I tell myself on the reg is the ‘well, that’s fucked it’ narrative. On a normal day, I have a range of habits that keep mind and body in line, including meditating, exercise and rules around social media. But all it takes is one thing – perhaps a bad night’s sleep – and they all fall like dominoes. I never think ‘well, maybe I’m too tired to work out, but I can definitely manage 10 minutes of meditation’. It’s just: ‘oh, it’s fucked then. Might as well sabotage my whole day and do very little work too!’ This ‘all-or-nothing’ attitude I blame entirely on diet culture, and it can still feel pretty hardwired, despite me giving up on food restrictions in my late twenties.
Again, it just shows how deep-rooted some of these narratives can be. The stories we tell ourselves shape everything we do, not to mention how we feel. But once you notice them, you can start to question them: Is that really true? That may have made sense then, but does it still work for me now? What would I say to a friend who held this belief?
…This is starting to feel like a therapy session now, so I’ll stop. But I wanted to point out that it’s never too late to make changes (however small) to the way you run your business. If you want to work fewer hours — you’re the boss! If your brain turns to mush at 3pm, it doesn’t mean the day has been a waste! Working for yourself may not be perfect, but it does offer opportunities to tweak your week so it works towards your happiness. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Ok, I’m curious — what stories have you been telling yourself about work? And have you changed them? Hit reply and let me know.
EVENT! Webinars are the only paid content for Out Of Office, and a fab way to show your support (and fund the free newsletter and other free events). This Thursday: come and workshop your podcast problems and ideas, and find out more about making money. Wherever you’re at with podcasting, this session with Ross Sutherland, creator of the award-winning Imaginary Advice could be just the thing. Lots of chances to ask your own questions, and also look at a very handsome man who makes his full-time living from the podcast. Tickets are free to Patreons or for sale here. A recording will be available too.
Come and join OOO on Facebook, where there’s a private community for self-employed women.