Maybe you don’t have to justify joy
I’ve always loved flowers. Over the years I’ve gotten into the weekly habit of visiting Trader Joe’s on a Monday to buy fresh blooms and then spending a good hour or so painstakingly arranging them in vases around the house while my husband rolls his eyes.
For a long time, I thought this was decadent behavior because there were better things to be spending money on, but I did it anyway. In some small way, it was a quiet act of rebellion against my frugal and practical roots.
The Flower Class I Almost Didn't Let Myself Take
And then I saw it one day online a year or so ago—a flower arranging course at Austin Community College. Six hours a week for five weeks. And that was just Level 1. I flagged it on my to-do list for a while, waiting and scanning for a time in the future when I could make space in my schedule for it.
Over the last few months I’ve been transitioning my business, pivoting away from training work and more toward coaching. As I let go of some long-standing engagements, the space finally began to emerge.
When I went online to book the course, I was nervous. It was almost like I was checking over my shoulder to see if there was anyone there who was going to scold me. For doing something so frivolous. So indulgent. How could I think about doing something so wasteful when I’m transitioning my business and need to be focusing on finding more coaching clients, building a marketing funnel or pipeline, or some other things that marketers are always blabbing on about?
The hardest thing about this course was signing up for it. And I don’t mean the process was complicated. It was the act of allowing myself to do it. The act of giving myself permission.
Years ago, when we moved to Austin, I decided to take an oil painting class because things were slow while I was getting True North established. I made time for the classes and drove all the way across town to South Austin in rush-hour traffic. And in most classes, I spent my time thinking about the fact that this was a wasteful activity and that I was killing time with my paintbrush when I should have been working on more worthwhile pursuits. Every time I got in my car to go, I felt guilty.
Maybe joy doesn’t need a business plan
Our house is filled with my guilt-ridden oil paintings that I kept producing, one after the other, to prove to myself that I was making time for creativity and self-care. I can only imagine how much more beautiful they would have been if I’d allowed myself to enjoy the experience. But I wasn’t interested in the experience; I was interested in how good the painting looked, whether it ticked all my instructor’s boxes, whether it had the right hues and tones, whether the shadow looked real. The better it looked, the more I could justify the time and effort.
I often wonder who I was justifying it for. My parents? Some imaginary audience? Myself? I still don’t know. When I think back to that experience, it makes me laugh, but it also makes me feel sad. How often do we sleepwalk through experiences because we can’t allow ourselves to be present to them? Instead, we’re thinking about what we should be doing with our time, feeling guilty or conflicted, and we miss the moment.
I haven’t missed it this time around. I’ve been asking myself why. Why is it different this time? And I can’t help but think that a lot of it has to do with practicing compassion for myself and recognizing that perhaps I can be more in this life than just the great overachiever.
But I caught myself going there at first. Perhaps I could set up a side business and start doing weddings and special events. I found myself thinking that would be a great way to justify the time and expense of the course.
And then I asked myself that question again: Who am I justifying this for?
I just signed up for Level 2.
Coaching questions for thought:
· What is something you've been wanting to do simply because it brings you joy—and what story have you been telling yourself about why you shouldn't?
· Where in your life are you trying to justify something that doesn't actually need a justification?
· What activities have you quietly turned into another opportunity to achieve, rather than simply experience?
· If no one were watching, judging, or measuring your productivity, how would you choose to spend an afternoon?
Shelley Pernot is a life and leadership coach who is passionate about helping her clients heal burnout and lead from a place of purpose. She is particularly adept at working with high performing women perfectionists at risk of burning out. Feeling a little stretched? Take the 3-minute Burnout Risk Survey to see where you stand. Reach out to me here for a free consultation to learn more about the coaching process and how it may benefit you!