Super Humanbeing at work
Day drifts into afternoon as I get my first moment to myself. In the bathroom, two girls play in the bath; somewhere north off Route 8, E gives a massage. Here in the living room I am joined by a warm fire and a scattering of objects across the floor. In this very chair are a wide selection of garments caressing my butt. Life is not so tidy today, but it is peaceful. There is much to do, and it all gets done in its own time for now, and much of that time is not now for the moment. There is nothing for me to do right now but write, so I sip my tea, ponder, and let the scribble flow.
I would like, somehow, to transpose this peaceability to work, where I still seem to have the need to achieve the impossible on a daily basis. Anything less than the impossible done and I leave a wreck, ruined by my own expectations. Where does this come from? The Super Humanbeing has not yet died; he just moved office. From the home to work, the frying pan to the fire: the need to be incredible has not yet left me.
It is strange. I even hear people telling me how impressed they are with my work, but it never sinks in, never penetrates. It’s as though accepting such an accolade would give me nothing left to work for, probably because that’s all I was working for. Once received, there is nothing left: an empty void of seeming demotivation.
But what is the truth of it? What would happen if I could just stop and listen, really soak up that appreciation? I think I would take it in, and move on with a growing awareness that whatever I do is enough; whatever I do is that much more than would have been done without me. That would be a great weight off: to understand that the only demands being made on me are in my head, to realize that my presence is appreciated just for it being there; that anything else is a bonus. It could help me see that I cannot fail: that enough is always exactly what I give – never an iota more or less. That would be such a relief.