Suffering with work

I often felt anxious about work.

But recently I had a massive realisation. And that was… the reason I am anxious is because I find my work straightforward and enjoyable. And I was fearful that people are going to FIND OUT.

Yep, buried deep within my psyche was the idea that I should be suffering for my work. That work should be blood, sweat and tears. When I worked in corporate marketing I found the work easy, but it clashed with my personality and so that created the suffering, so that was ok.

Teaching I loved and I think I’m quite a good teacher, but being in a formal, structured environment doesn’t suit me and schools are both very formal and structured. So that’s ok, there was suffering there.

But the work I do now? Well I love it. I work with organisations and individuals to help them thrive. I help young people have great access to art by providing consultation to arts companies to help them to run in the best way possible. I work with museums to get young people through their Arts Award. I work with schools on various programmes. I get to develop and run programmes like Arts Award Supporter. I write all sorts of different things, from ebooks to marketing collateral.

I get to coach people and help them to achieve their potential.

I love it. I work hard, I put a lot of effort in for all of my clients.

But it doesn’t cause me suffering

And some how I felt this wasn’t acceptable.

I call RUBBISH.

I am good at this because I have been given the talent. I have trained at this. I hold qualifications in it. I have developed, refined and honed my skills over years.

This is honestly such a revelation. We are allowed to enjoy our work and have a good time with it.

I feel like a massive festering pile of rubbish has left my stomach and I feel so free. I guess it is rather a Calvinistic-Protestant thought process, amazing to say I didn’t have a religious upbringing!

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2 Comments

  1. Cool post! When I think about starting my online business, I am so so excited about it but then there is always that moment of…”But there has got to be a catch right?” How can something that would suit me so perfectly in every way be considered “work”? I have definitely taken on the belief that work should be hard and I’ve realised that’s total crap 🙂

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