When Seth Godin tipped his hat to Chris Guillebeau’s wunnerful 279 Days to Overnight Success, he did it with just two sentences and the perfect word:

Chris just published this free manifesto. This PDF is what generous looks like.

And it is, indeed.

Since then, I’ve been distilling experiences, products, and people into the one word that gets it right. An amusing exercise with mixed results. For example, I spent last week decluttering our space and reflecting on my life from age 15 to 40. This morning I declared (with a flourish) that the One Right Word for my life so far is—

Stupid

How awkward to go soul-searching and find I’m a very intelligent person who does the stupidest fucking things? And how useful to realize the smartest things I’ve done were done on purpose. I feel way sure my intention was key to how well they worked out. This is the point.

That said, for all the serenity that decluttering brought, the one-word conclusion left me feeling a bit like shit. Still, we may as well all learn something from it…

Me, The Sniper

When working on a project, I’m like a sniper in The Bubble. I’ve read snipers are good at what they do because, among other things, they can cocoon themselves in a silent space–their bubble–and focus entirely on the (unfortunately fatal) task at hand. When I’m really working on something, I can do exactly that.

The good news is: I get a lot of good work done when I’m bubbled up.

The bad news is: The dishes and laundry don’t get washed, phone calls don’t get returned, email goes ignored, unopened mail piles up, legs go unshaven, bills get paid at the last minute, the oven is stone cold, and my hungry husband is wondering when the self-centered wench with the prickly attitude (and legs!) will go back into her box so his attentive, loving wife can come back. And if there are any clean socks.

This would be okay for a day or a week, but I have a handy habit of attracting gigs that last for months when I need the money most. I sign the contracts with reckless gratitude, do the work with vigor, earn the cash, burn myself out, and let my Life go straight to hell.

Good thing I crossed paths with Mark Silver, Laurie Foley, Cath Duncan, and other folks who encourage us to decide with our hearts and guts ahead of (or instead of) our brains. My heart and gut say that how I work best is at its worst with how I’ve been working. I’m resisting the concept, but it smells like Truth.

True or not, I’m 40 years old and only just now thinking this through. Pretty stupid, right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

It’s surely a little stupid. But really? I think it’s a symptom of a bigger stupid.

Introducing: A Bigger Stupid

I love buffets. I can taste a variety of foods for one price.

I have lived a buffet. I am paying the price.

Life is meant to be sampled at 20. During college I dated with abandon, drifted in and out of cliques, and moved to a new apartment every year. Oddly enough, I stuck with an unsuitable architecture program until the gasping, bitter end.

And I worked the whole time: summers, holidays, and during school. I was a dishwasher, an artist’s model, and cashier at the doughnut shop. I worked at a jewelry store, the library, and the dining hall offices. Off the books, I cut hair (badly) and typed papers (very well).

After graduation, I temped a lot, learned the typical admin stuff, and tripped over Access databases along the way. I shifted into the IT world by chance and they became the center of my working life. For 10+ years, each job and contract was one happy accident after another.

Somewhere along there I attended an Edward Tufte seminar and found that data can be beautiful. I discovered the Internet and saw how information can spread. I started building websites because it was easy, interesting, and fun.  I learned how much I loved learning and how I could use Tufte-ness, the Internet, and websites to help others learn, too. I blogged because I could. And then I turned 40.

Do you see the bigger stupid yet?

The Bigger Stupid, Defined

It’s the lack of intention.

I’d strike out in a direction and then coast as far as I could. If something got unmanageable or undesirable, I’d just…drift away into something else. Sometimes. Other times I would stubbornly stick with something that did me no good and maybe a lotta bad.

Rarely did I set my mind on something I wanted with an idea of what I would get from it and what it would take for me to get it, and then go all the way.

Looking back over it from this distance, much of my life I’ve worked very, very hard not to leave a ripple despite inner tugs to do/try/contribute/affect more. How regretful. How stupid.

And today I’m thoroughly pissed that I didn’t pause sooner to consider what the hell I was doing.

Other Stupids

Learning new skills is great, because nothing learned is ever wasted. But putting learning before earning was stupid.

Asking other folks for the Best Thing To Do Next was stupid, because I knew what to do…but I lacked the confidence to do it, dreaded failure, and was wary of success.

Believing I could excel (or even get by) without much effort, like in school, was stupid. Even a half-successful business takes work. A super-successful one takes far more than that (though it gives more, too).

I didn’t stop when things felt bad. I didn’t stop when things felt unbearable. I believed I could and should “hang in there”. I didn’t listen to my heart. I didn’t listen to my gut. Really stupid.

I have been consistently and regretfully stupid.

But not eternally

We already talked about drawing lines in the sand on what we will and won’t do with our work and our lives and our selves. So here’s a big line drawn from last week—

No more making stupid

Wishing you a life with less stupid,

p.s. This isn’t about not making mistakes. I fully intend to make a lot of them, and as smartly and as quickly as possible, as Pam Slim often suggests. We’ll see what happens, eh?

Photo credit: andryone