For the better part of a decade, I wanted to be a writer. It was what Robert Greene would have called my life’s task; any minute spent on anything else seemed to be a waste of my time.
I made little bits of momentum, spurting and sputtering while exploring businesses that would help pay the bills. My aspirations grew beyond all reality checks. When I saw other people succeeding at what they deemed their lives’ tasks, I knew I deserved to put more energy and time into my own life’s task.
When I took my first full-time job, I was unprepared for how much energy it would take away from my life’s task—writing. I felt like I’d made the wrong decision—by taking on a full-time job, I wasn’t being devoted to my craft, and I was doing something wrong. As you can guess, it felt like an extremely frustrating experience.
The pendulum swung the complete opposite after; when my full-time job contract was up, I devoted myself full-time into my life’s task. It absolutely was not working—I had taken the equivalent to a 97% pay cut, and I swore that I would make it work somehow. The devotion would pay off; it had to.
Looking back, it sounds much more theatrical than it needed to be, although that’s how it felt in the moment. Desperation grew; I even seriously considered liquidating my entire stock portfolio, just to make sure I had enough cash to keep going. If I didn’t, how could I say I went all-in? If I didn’t go all-in, how can I say I deserve success at my life’s task?
Fortunately, my wife (fiancée at the time), and a mentor of mine, could see my situation with cooler heads. They both effectively advised me, “Do what you need to do. Just explore your options though.” I did explore my options. I made some calls, I asked a lot of questions, and realized that I had way more options than I’d have thought. I also discovered a long heritage of people who worked full-time jobs and still remained extremely devoted to their lives’ tasks; in fact, the job enabled them to not rely on their life’s task for money and sustenance—which infused the task with much more creative energy, and alleviated the pressure.
Some people do need to devote themselves to their craft (see Evan Armstrong’s inspiring recent call). If anything that I wrote in this piece sounds familiar to you though—which comes out much more blurting confessional than I’d prefer to have written (I can only polish so much when blogging daily—a feature and a bug!)—you need to do the opposite.
Loosen your devotion to your life’s task. Define yourself more outside of your devotion to your life’s task. Additionally, you’d also benefit from throwing away the milestones, accolades, and career patterns that come with your life’s task—in my case, the book deals, the publicity, being accepted and recognized on the scene—and instead, focusing on the actual work itself—in my case, regularly writing and publishing.
Cultivating a life outside of your life’s task can and will, counterintuitively, feed the task itself. You’ll pick up new skills, meet new people, and gain life experience, all invaluable raw material that will contribute to the task itself.