Perhaps I’m going about things all wrong.
In the last GQ there was an article about the necessities and excesses of the hyper-trendy green movement. It was mostly fluff, bouncing between the dire results of every Indian & Chinese owing an internally-combustible car, and the ridiculousness of buying a shiny new hybrid-SUV because somehow you’re going to save the earth by stretching each gallon of gas another mile or two.
Nothing new there, but there was a quote from one Bjorn Lomborg that made me wonder about my approach to life:
“The reason we’ve done so well as a civilization over the past 300 years is specialization — I don’t fix my own computer, I don’t produce my own TV programs. I do very few things, but hopefully I do them well.”
And then there was this quote from my friend John’s blog:
“When I grow up, maybe I’ll learn to say “no” to things that fall outside my talents, skills and giftings. I know for a fact that God has not equipped me to be a travel agent. I shall never again be the one responsible for flight plans, fund collections or any of those kinds of details related to a missions trip. I’m just not good at it.”
I’ve always been one to try to go it alone, fix it myself, make it happen on my own terms. But when I look at both my domestic and professional life, I see mostly loose ends that I could fix if I had the time, but I don’t have the time. I’ve got no time for anything. And then these self-inflicted responsibilities just start stacking up and choking out any space to do what I’m actually kinda good at.
For instance, I’m massively behind in my attempts to get a new e-commerce platform up-and-running. It would/could/should be a good thing to do, and it’s plum necessary in my line of work that I continue to evolve this “solution” to keep up with the times. However, I’ve never felt any desire to hang out with a database, let alone tweak the code to get it to jump through my hoops. Now, I’ll stay up all night tweaking the layout of the user interface. I think that’s fun.
Am I less of a man for hiring some help? Why my lack of faith in the word “team”? Does this all go back to a childhood kick-ball game gone bad? The blacktop broiling under the summer sun. The bounce of the ball, the dodge, the jump the crash, the burn, the Sears Toughskin corduroy jeans not tough enough. Argh!! The iodine!!
Feeling better… I think I’ll go make some calls. Go team!
