Yesterday felt awful. It was tiring, trudging through the small tasks, yet it was meant to be a day when I could finally relax a little.
There were a few work-related things I wanted to get done, then just read for the rest of the day.
But I woke up surprisingly early and had a slow start as a result.
During the middle of the day, things that should have taken less than 20 minutes were taking more than an hour.
And at one point, I began to question the intent behind the work I was doing. I habitually question things around me at an existential level.
I felt like I wasn’t doing my best on my current project, that there were better ways to use my time, and that there was still much I could do to maximize its potential.
Perhaps my incessant need to make the most of my time was the very thing that was preventing me from following up with those who wanted to share their stories with me.
I wanted to send out those messages yesterday morning.
Yet, I finished sending them around 7 in the afternoon.
What resistance was I facing that it took me the entire day to send a short and simple message to six people?
I don’t think it was because I was afraid they wouldn’t respond.
I think it was because I was afraid they would respond.
I feared not knowing what to do if I had succeeded in hearing back from them.
It doesn’t help that I have a full-time job that occupies five out of the seven evenings in the week, which is the preferred time for many of the people I’m interviewing.
In any case, decisions must be made on how I spend my time within the coming weeks.
So, yesterday felt awful, and I barely accomplished anything.
Then what about today?
Hopeful and optimistic.
I’m not joking.
I had a meeting with a Father from a large Catholic church in our community, and our conversation encouraged me that the work I’m doing on this project is the work that must be done for the community.
In fact, the more people I discuss this project with, the more necessary it feels to continue the work.
Initially, he planned to give the announcement of the project after Sunday’s Mass himself, as it’s a large community and many use the chance to ask for personal announcements.
But our conversation convinced him that I needed to stand up on the podium to deliver it, as it would better resonate with the audience if they saw someone like me up there.
And here’s the fun part: there’s not one, not two, but three Spanish masses on Sunday mornings.
He asked me which one I wanted to attend, and I surprised myself by responding, “Why not all three?”
In other words, my Sunday morning will be filled with three similar announcements to three large, separate crowds.
I don’t know how many people would be interested in talking to me after each announcement—worst case, no one walks up to me.
But I will treat this great opportunity as practice for the bigger and better projects I will be working on.
Because these projects are just that: fun experiments that push me outside my comfort zone and develop the skills I need.
So, it’s odd.
Yesterday, I felt hopeless. And today, I feel hopeful. Tomorrow, I may return to feeling hopeless, or I may continue feeling hopeful.
But such is the case with a meaningful project, I suppose.
The only thing I can do is to enjoy every minute of it and see it as a fun adventure, because that’s all it can ever be.