The bus with the dream job doesn't stop here...but it's not the only ride in town

As kids, most of us probably had to deal with "So-o-o-o...what do you want to be when you grow up?" It's always been a loaded question, but to me it seems like the urgency behind it grows more intense by the decade. By the time I graduated college in 1982, the gold standard wasn't merely to get a "good" job; by then, you were supposed to earn a living doing what you loved, whatever that might be.

 In 1992, when my husband and I made our way back to the Northwest with two kids in tow, this idea had become almost a religious creed among university graduates from middle-class and affluent families. If your job didn't thrill you and exercise your favorite talents as well as provide money to pay the bills, you were doing something wrong. Worse, if you were satisfied with a seemingly humdrum just-a-job, were content to practice your art or vocation after hours and didn't feel a burning need to make money from it, there was something wrong with you.

Happily for us double-lifers, this seems to be changing. Maybe it's partly due to the 2008-09 recession, when so many people lost top-tier positions and had to make do with jobs they'd never dreamed of doing before. Maybe it's because we humans have a way of eventually becoming disenchanted with anything we're doing, even when it thrills as well as pays bills. And maybe it's because some of us just grew tired of waging a never-ending quest for the elusive dream job or, as in the case of several writer friends, the publisher whose patronage of a novel will rescue the writer from her day job. For whatever reason, these days I'm meeting many more people, including my coworkers and fellow writers/musicians, who live the double life and are OK with it.

Life coaching pioneer and author Barbara Sher, wrote in her groundbreaking book Wishcraft, "If you want to do what you love for money, first try doing it for love." Here's a secret that many of us second-lifers don't stumble onto until we surrender: there's something to be said for keeping that love separate from money. It neutralizes the desperation that can take over both an artistic practice and a career when things aren't going as they "should." And desperation can kill both careers and artistic endeavors.

When you're desperate, you end up compromising in order to please other people - bosses, potential buyers, agents or "the market."  Desperation also makes financial difficulties worse. I don't know anyone who can afford to simply quit a job gone bad with total insouciance, but it's much easier when your whole identity isn't at stake (having a number of other marketable skills also helps!). And while rejection by a publisher, agent or director is never fun, it's easier to survive if you're not thinking, "OMG, there goes next month's rent" or "I'll never make a living as an author. I'm a failure!"

Once I became absolutely clear about the role that livlihood plays in my life, it became much easier to draw boundaries that keep the job contained in its own space, not slopping out into family, community or music time. The question became, "Does this job, new role or opportunity serve my larger goals, or will it hinder them?" It's usually not a hard question to answer. Once I became proficient at filtering out job-related things that don't serve, I started accomplishing more in the areas of life I've decided are most important.

Double-lifers tend to see life itself - relationships, family, friends, avocations, community or volunteer work and spiritual growth - as a career. Paid work supports that career but it's only one part in a large complex whole. If you're one of the zillions of people who currently doesn't earn your entire livlihood by following your bliss (yes, zillions - I can attest to this; I live in the greater Portland area), you're in plenty of company. And the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" has become irrelevant because we never stop growing.

"Art" is Something We Do

Recently I had a clarifying discussion with a friend who has been involved in performing arts for many years. She claimed that support for the arts among the general American population is dwindling. I countered that interest in the arts is as strong as it's ever been,; the difference is that the people I meet seem more interested in participating than in being merely spectators and consumers.

My friend holds a day job but aspires to a full-time career on stage. For her, ticket sales will always be a concern. I understand that. However, I'm not sure that ticket sales tell the entire "support the arts" story. These days I'm meeting a fair number of people who've recently signed up for improv classes, are looking for a good piano teacher or have taken up painting again after many years of devoting all their time to career and family. Maybe people with disposable income and an interest in an art form are more inclined than before to invest in their own creative ventures.

The PDX-SWWash area has zillions of writers' groups and one of the largest and most respected writers' conferences in the country, the Willamette Writers Conference, held each August. It has, by my own (probably insufficient) count, 26 community music organizations such as choirs and bands. Portland craigslist has so many ads for musicians seeking garage bands that it would take hours to go through one day's listings. ComedySportz and other theater groups fill up their class rosters. Collaging, scrapbooking (yes, it's an art. I'd call it a form of folk art) and photography workshops continue to be popular.

Some of the people participating in these endeavors are doing it as a career move, but I'm guessing that most are practicing their art simply because they love doing it. It enriches their lives in a way that merely spectating can't. Viewing or listening to others' work is very important, but only practicing an art can bring the feeling of total involvement that these people seek.

And they're willing to pay for classes, workshops, membership in groups, conferences and materials. Paying the cost of learning from a master of an art is a form of support. It's the form of choice for many of us. My own budget is pretty limited (and isn't this true for many of us?), and while I'll save up for a concert I really want to attend, make a point of seeing friends perform in local theater & music venues and occasionally buy a new download from Amazon, I'd choose to pay for lessons first. The afterglow from a great concert can last several days but studying under an inspiring teacher keeps the magic going on and on.

A post that makes occasional appearances on my Facebook page says "Art is a verb." Supporting the arts includes viewing the work of professionals but that's only part of it. Practicing an art for its own sake and living as artfully as possible in the workaday world may be the deepest form of support.

Link

http://www.slideshare.net/Women_Connect/exit-strategies-at-work

Knowing When It's Time to Move On

During the past month, four of my colleagues in various groups have announced that this will be their last gig / project / meeting with us; it's time to move on. It seems like a season for moving on, given that so many people are doing it. I've often done it myself; for me, after 3-5 years of doing almost any activity or job, boredom sets in and it's time to try something new.

 I've also struggled at times to figure out whether it was really time to leave or whether the restlessness was due to a fixable problem. And sometimes I've overstayed my productive time in a venture simply because there wasn't anything to move on to - at least, not something that would fill the specific hole in my life that the exit would create. Many of us do this.  A friend of mine never leaves her current writers' critique group until she's found a new one; it's that important to her.

 As I've listened to friends talk about their own stay-or-go dilemmas, it has struck me that all the instances share some similarities. It also seems to me that there are a few general guidelines to making a good decision that apply across the board, whether the thing we're leaving is a job, a volunteer duty, an extracurricular activity group, a circle of friends or just a one-to-one relationship.

Unless you've joined your group solely to pursue a certain activity, with no interest in building relationships, three simple questions can help you clarify whether to stay or go:

1. Am I growing in skill level, proficiency, or ability? For example, in musical terms the question could be Am I growing musically? Is my musicianship continuing to develop? A writer may ask herself Is this critique group still helping me become a better writer? If you can still pinpoint specific gains, it may not be time to leave yet.
2. Am I growing socially? For many of us, the things we do outside our paid work are often not only chances to develop skills and aspects of ourselves that don't get practiced on the job; they also provide chances to connect with others. Very few of the adults I know want to limit their lives to working at work and working at home. When most people invest heavily in an off-hours commitment such as PTSA, a church, a book group or yoga class, they're looking for companionship as well as activity . If the time you spend in your own group doesn't seem to be paying off in terms of allowing you to do your best work, but you just love getting together with everyone, it may be worth staying.
3. And perhaps the most important question - am I still having fun? So many people overlook this one, or consider it too selfish to be considered criteria for continuing an activity. However, if it's a "side dish," you're not obligated to keep it, even if you've been doing it forever / everyone in your family is a member / "they" expect it of you / you're indispensible. If it's become a chore or it feels like a joyless obligation, your work and relationships within the group will reflect this. Besides, do you really want to waste precious time on something you don't enjoy, if you have a choice?

You can apply these questions to solo pursuits as well (Should I take a break from writing for awhile? Do I want to stop painting and take up photography?) although the social aspect might not be as strong a factor.

These three questions have helped me evaluate certain involvements in the past. No decision is foolproof, but  asking specific questions makes a better decision likely.

And remember that almost no decision is irreversible. Groups for writers or artists are generally not as exclusive as, say, Harvard medical school.  If you leave your critique group but don't find another or realize you made a mistake, chances are good that you can work your way back in. Most of the time, you can go home again.

But sometimes you don't find out where Home is until you get moving.

Alone and Together: Striking a Balance

During the last four months, my husband has been out of town for weeks at a time, mostly to help care for his mother during a challenging time for the family. Whenever this happens, I take over the dining room table, spreading out projects and leaving works-in-progress laying around for days at a time. I get enormous amounts of creative work done during these times. However, I'm always happy when he arrives back home, partly because I've missed him but also because after a certain amount of solo work time I feel saturated. At that point it's time for a break, and the best type of break is a social one. This year all my various groups are either taking breaks themselves or are in limbo due to personal circumstances, so the usual social outlets aren't there...and the difference is noticeable.

Everyone has a unique ideal balance between solo creative time and communal exchange-of-ideas time. If you're engaged in any side venture that involves creative work (and this includes almost everything, not just the arts), it pays to find your own ideal. This may take some experimentation. In addition, if you have children under the age of 18 or are caring for a family member, you may already be struggling to carve out some solo time. And on top of that, if you have to work outside the home you probably already miss your family so often that whenever you're together, everything else falls by the wayside. Been there, done that.

However, it's still worth your while to experiment or play with creative project time. If you have young children, you could try to find a way for them to participate alongside you. Many of the visual arts and crafts lend themselves well to this. With older kids, striking a bargain ("I'll help you with your homework after I get in fifteen minutes of practice") often works. If you're married or partnered, set up regular solo times for both of you where your partner takes care of family matters while you get to work alone, and vice versa. For some excellent ideas on how to enlist family support, read Wishcraft by Barbara Sher, with special attention to the final chapter, "Don't do-it-yourself."

When you have a regularly scheduled time for solo work, you'll find it easier to respond to the stuff life throws your way without feeling cheated or rushed. The next step is to find or create a group of fellow artists, writers (or whatever) for mutual support. In the next post I'll offer suggestions on finding like-minded people who also see the need for group work.

Keeping your dream going during hard times.

Today I've been thinking about friends going through challenging times, making it seemingly impossible to keep moving forward on a dream or goal. The situations have included caring for a loved one with Dementia, being mired in a period of prolonged unemployment and being flooded out of the house.

In some cases it's necessary to put plans on hold and deal with a disaster or emergency. We all have times when everything comes to a halt. However, when the situation is less dramatic but long-term, you may be selling yourself short if you give up entirely.

During some of my own hard times, writing was the single activity that kept me from going crazy. During a particularly dismal period in the mid-80s following college graduation, when it seemed to me and my friends that none of us would ever find a full-time job at all, let alone work in our various fields, a couple of us formed a writers' group. No matter how unproductive the week had been or how little money was left, I could always count on getting together with my friends not just to write together but to be together. It gave each of us a reason to keep up our efforts even when it seemed they'd never pay off.

Here are some ways to keep your dream active. Some of these are strategies friends shared with me and others are things I've picked up as I've moved along. I'm using novel-writing as the activity example but it could be anything:

• Make a commitment to yourself and write it down. A brief note such as "I intend to write 500 words every day" works. This sends a signal to your subconscious mind that you mean business.
• If your current hard times involve serious financial hardship, don't get trapped into thinking you can't start until you have state-of-the-art equipment & gear (for a writer, that might be a new computer & scriptwriting software) or a closet full of expensive supplies. Start with what you have.
• Start your waking day by writing, even if for only 5 minutes. If you're really strapped for time and privacy, keep a notebook (or your Netbook/tablet) in a space where you won't be disturbed - I once used a closet - and do creative work until you hear the kids bumping around the house. Having done one small thing towards your goal will put a positive spin on your entire morning. 
• Think in terms of small snatches of time, not huge blocks. Write 200 words during your 15-minute break or while waiting for band practice to finish. Those 200 words will add up. 
• Be prepared to grab unexpected opportunities when they come up. Have your project and any necessary supplies gathered in one place. That way, if your meeting is canceled or the parent of your child's friend offers to take her to the library with them, you'll be able to dive right in.
• Before you put the project aside, take a minute to plan what you'll do the next time you work on it. This will eliminate the dithering that might use up half of your next block of free time. 
• If you're especially tired, scattered or discouraged by the day's events, write anyway. Don't expect it to be good; in fact, don't hold your work to any standards at all. Don't feel compelled to work on it for longer than 10 minutes. You might, however, find that once you start, your mood picks up and you want to continue.

When you're stretched to your limit or in the dumps, working on your dream, art form, project or goal may seem like a luxury. But once you experience the energy lift that comes from doing what you love and how it spreads throughout all areas of your life, you'll realize that it's really an investment, one you'll eventually wonder how you lived without.

A Student Again: Just Hang Out & Soak Up the Vibe

This wasn't one of my better days in jazz class. When I left home I took the wrong music notebook by mistake (is there such a thing as too much sheet music?), arrived late and couldn't locate a crucial download in my player. I didn't feel as though I made any progress on the pieces themselves, either. But I was still glad I'd come. One thing made the trip across town worthwhile: hanging around at Beacock's for awhile after class and soaking up all the happy music-making energy.

Several weeks ago there were tables set up in the band section for school kids coming in to rent instruments for the year. All the kids I happened to see looked excited as they inspected, chose and filled out forms for their clarinets, saxes and horns. The rental rush is over now but it was fun to watch while it lasted.

Something's always going on in each corner of the store. Today a group of teenage girls were browsing the pop artist vocal music books and doing their own rendition of Born This Way. Several boys were trying out the drum kits. Upstairs I could hear the garage band class for tweens warming up. I even saw a few other adults strumming guitars or examining sound equipment. They looked as though they were shopping for themselves, not one of their kids. 

When I'm having an "off" day like today, just spending a few extra moments drifting around the store and aimlessly browsing gets me back on track. Hearing kids play and seeing their enthusiasm challenges me to pick myself back  up and practice. Just being around music people gets me going again.

Some days, we take giant steps. On other days, especially the draggy ones, it's enough to just hang out in the right atmosphere and soak it up.