Many moons ago, when I thought horror novels were fun, a fiendish book left me with mental images I’d rather forget, and a line that I’d rather not: “We waste no part of the animal.”
Bringing that up in a business context may seem a little off, but “waste no part” is right in line with this week’s reflections about what I’ve brought forward from design school, and last week’s post on my leaving grad school to walk a different road. It may mean something to you, too.
It’s relevant because I’m not an architect, and I’m never going to be. But I can–and do—take scraps from my old Life as an architecture student and put them to good use in my new(er) Lives of blogging and databases and corporate reporting and design.
My ex-stepfather (I’ve since fired him) used to grump that his money and my time were wasted on my degree if I wasn’t going to be an architect. But from this week’s posts, and more besides, it’s come clear I’m wasting little of that particular animal.
…
As I start my journey on this new road, I’m checking my pack and pockets for all the positive remnants from my previous Lives: my prize for best sewing in Home Ec in the 7th grade, wanting to be a librarian in the 8th, drafting and shop classes in high school, the first story I ever wrote, my first online chat, all the website and database projects, what I hated about the jobs I loved and what I loved about the jobs I hated. And praise for my reading voice and my analytical skills and the elegance of a design, and how I bring understanding to people, and that I’m a better tutor than teacher.
Sure. I could make a business out of my most highest earning, my best certified, and my most tenured skills. But if I felt passionate about any of those things, I’d still be doing them. More than that, recommitting myself to any combination of those would mean wasting the other things that I know.
And so I’m wondering
How much better will it be then, to collect and examine what some would consider the table scraps of my Life? How much better will it be to ignore my resume and other labor logs (for now) to rediscover what I enjoyed, what I originally planned to do, and of course, what I dreamed most of doing?
Doesn’t it make sense really, to sift through my skills and interests as a prereq to imagineering the thing(s) I Can And Will do next? How much better is it to pick off the bones of my Life with care…to be sure I’m not wasting any part?
…
A year’s wage worth of student loans is a five-digit testimony to my quest for more knowledge, more exposure, and more skills because I’ve never felt qualified enough to be a professional anything, though everyone else tells me otherwise. Everyone.
What a silly rabbit I’ve been.
How much better will it be for me to abandon having more and focus instead on making the most of what I have?
…
How much better would it be for you then, if you did the same?
Et tu?
Are you sure you’ve got all the gigs, billable hours, and referrals you’re gonna get out of your current clients? You already know that extending an old client relationship is cheaper and faster and easier than developing a new one. Waste no part.
Are you sure you’ve repurposed your existing content in every way? Have you distilled it to a multi-part email course? Expanded it into a weekend workshop? Has it been re-presented as a video? Audiobook? EBook? Has it been translated into English, French, Spanish, German, Hindi, Chinese, Thai, and Tagalog? Don’t develop new content until everything’s been done with what you have. Waste no part.
Are you sure you’re sick of your job/career? Have you tried integrating your personal interests into it? Could you improve your relationship with your peers, your colleagues, your boss? Have you tried teaching on the side? Have you tried teaching inside? Do you really hate it, or are you just bored with it? Don’t abandon your career until you’ve given everything you can, and until you’ve taken everything you can use. Waste no part.
Waste not, want not
Photo credit: equality
