Note: this is a piece where I pose more questions than answers. -EMJ
In 2019 I did a training for GOLD Learning lactation conference. The talk was titled When Breast Isn't Best*. GOLD conferences have always been online and they archive all talks for anytime access. Presenters get a portion of the revenue after their talk is archived. For the past three years, in late December, I have received a royalty from GOLD for my talks.
Money coming in from my training always tailspins me. I start thinking about updating my references, redoing the talk, adding in current stories, pitching it to GOLD as an update and looking into the logistics of their next conference. Tailspin, I tell you.
Never mind that I haven't done any work in this area in over a year. Never mind that I have plenty of other interesting projects. Never mind that I want more peace and rest in my life, not less.
And yet, I'm tempted.
The content remains important. I continue to hear from pregnant survivors, surprised at the lack of information on how past sexual trauma might impact their breastfeeding. They hear very little from their providers because trauma education was never addressed in their professional training. Also, I'm a sucker for catchy titles.
How do we know when to let something go or not pursue it in the first place?
The markers have been clearer for me when I have been working for someone else:
Being taken advantage of;
Talents, skills being stifled or curtailed;
Lack of learning, growth on my end;
Not being valued;
Exhaustion as my main feeling instead of joy, awe or satisfaction;
Colleagues, boss not "getting" or supporting me and/or using me to my full potential;
Work feeling rote, uninspiring or lacking in challenge.
But what about when you work for yourself? And what about the question: "would you do it if you weren't paid?"
Would I update the talk, pitch it, record it (if accepted) etc. if I wasn't going to be paid? Definitely not. I have been down that road. I worked for free when I was green and trying to get my name known. It wasn't worth it then and I doubt that has changed. There's value in this question but, for me, it isn't enough of a metric.
Or even outside of work: how do you know when to drop something? a project, a volunteer gig, a church, a community or even relationship? I asked this question in one of my Stories on Instagram and here's what people said:
“When good enough is neither good nor enough”
“It’s a quiet feeling, under my ribs. I don’t love it. But I know it tells me the truth.”
“When it is not aligned with your truth.”
“When it’s all I think about all the time.”
“I don’t. I work on it until I can’t.”
“When there’s a sense of heaviness.”
“When on balance, the joy doesn’t outweigh the pain.”
No one mentioned a pro and con list. Not surprising. When have you ever made a decision based on the sum of a column? You tend to make decisions, based at least in part, about how you feel about the thing. Not to mention your pros and cons are usually facts. Facts can be useful but I bet you need sharper insight over more data.
…which is why "am I good at it?" isn't a great metric either. When we are good at something, we give it more weight in our lives or more highly value it than if we suck at something. That high value isn’t always warranted. Being good at a thing can be an Achilles Heel if it means we stick with something way beyond it actually serving us.
So what metrics do we need to determine if we should let something go? Or not pursue it in the first place?
If facts aren’t what serve us in answering this question then maybe metrics only get us so far. Perhaps a better query is: what do we know to be true about ourselves, given the situation? (yes, I know that needs to be tighter, but again I’m asking more questions than answers in this post so apologies for the lack of tightness and clarity.)
One thing I know about me is that when I think about my work from a business perspective i.e. training people on a specific topic, my motivations change. When I make decisions with a "business" hat on, I get too easily led astray and say "yes" to decisions I shouldn't. Capitalism pushes me hard and greed takes over. Money-making becomes my north star.
However, when I think about my work as "writing", I am able to listen to my values, my right people, my intentions around being of service and building community. It’s writing not “real” work so capitalism doesn't waste its breath. Patriarchy definitely can't be bothered. Supremacy thinking doesn't go away (surprise, surprise) but its voice is dulled, as if it speaks from behind an oak door instead of the chair uncomfortably pulled alongside my desk.
We know there are many elements that influence a decision. Things like our trauma history but also systems of oppression thinking. Or how scarcity thinking influences us and how we define what “enough” means for us. That's all the lasagna, right? I think we need more of the optional lasagna ingredients (intuition for example) as metrics for what we keep and let go. Because we don't make decisions based solely on what's rational, the answer needs to also involve (or acknowledge) how I feel about the thing. l, the answer needs to involve or acknowledge how I feel about the thing. And not just intuition or the "excited for a new project" kind of feeling but what's behind the zeal. Excitement can cloud my vision. A sexy first date is tantalizing. But what am I not seeing because my date is so fucking hot? That's what I'm talking about here: the subtle or quieter feelings that's adjacent to horny. What are those feelings?
I definitely don't have The Answer but I'm starting to think that's because there isn't only one. I'd love to hear from you on this, dear reader. What metrics do you use to determine if you should let something go? Or not pursue it in the first place? Let me know. Leave a comment below.
*This talk was updated in 2021 and lives here.
