So yesterday was a DAY. You might know these days. I hadn’t showered in a couple of days, and, well, I’ll just say that I definitely needed a shower. I’d woken up at 4:55am to finish editing a podcast that was overdue, and at 6:16am the boys woke up. I grabbed coffee, shuffled them to breakfast and toys, and then…
A strange gurgling sound started emanating from the bathroom. Ew, um—what?
Our bathtub started filling up like a spooky gross horror movie. Not with clean water, either. Dark, dank, muddy water.
Well, this wouldn’t bode well.
Turns out it was one of those days. Both boys ended up staying home, the plumber was called (he came during nap time, because—of course), my head started to spin with a cold, my older kid got curious about what bleach is, my younger kid decided to try to drink from the sink, and, well, I still haven’t showered. Dry shampoo and baby wipes for the win.
Basically, you know how the story goes: there’s a lot going on. A whole lot of it unpredictable and ridiculous.
But here’s the thing: there’s always a lot going on.
I said to my husband, “This might sound crazy, but I think I’m going to try to switch my night routine and figure out a new sleep pattern. Not sure if I should start tonight or wait a week until things are less intense.”
I’ve been working on getting better at sleep (I’ve been an anxious, insomniac kind of person for WAY too long and I have slowly but surely made huge headway over the years).
“Do you think it’s nuts to try to do this right now?”
A pause of silence.
Then we both busted out laughing. We laughed so hard we couldn’t stop.
Of course it’s nuts to do this right now. It’s always nuts. But that’s the thing: it’s always going to be nuts.
There’s never going to be a time in our lives when the kids are peacefully playing contentedly for hours (at least not predictably), when everything in the house is working just right, when the groceries are miraculously purchased and fresh and ready, when the dishes are always done, and when everything in the business is running seamlessly. It’s a nice thought, but reality is different. There are always going to be snotty noses, missed trains, new repairs to do on the house, and groceries that need purchasing. As long as we have humans that are living, we’re going to have food needs, bathroom needs, and sleep needs.
As long as we’re working on a business that’s never been done before, especially in a world that’s constantly changing, we’re going to need to be resilient, responsive, and adjust in real time.
“I guess it’s insane to try to do one more thing,” I said, “But also, when is it really going to be a better time?”
Yes, it would be ideal if I had an extra $30k in my business budget to spend on Facebook Ads, or another $50k I could spend on press and getting the word out. It would also be pretty great if commutes no longer existed and we could shift school schedules to match work schedules even by just a hair. I could list a hundred things that might make my current reality easier or simpler—and yes, there’s a lot I could still hire out. But for now, we’ve got what we’ve got—and we can choose to do the best with what we have, or we can avoid doing the work.
Do your best, with what you have, with where you are.
There aren’t perfect circumstances.
Plus, I’ve been around the business circuit for a little while now, “hiring” and “more money” doesn’t really solve a ton of problems, it just changes the things you’re working on and where your focus goes.
That is, there is always more work to be done.
It seems impossible to have a day when I am all of the things: exercised, showered, clean, well-dressed, well-fed, organized, on top of my stuff, well-slept, completely free of snotty germs, and with extra hours to do all the work that I want to do—never mind see friends at night. There’s just too much going on, so I pick and choose on a daily basis what I’ll focus on and what I’ll drop. Some days, a lot of days if I’m being honest, I wear the same thing I wore yesterday—I just change my undies and splash water on my face.
Who really needs to shower every day, I mean—come on now.
It’s also okay to lower your standards, too. Remember that 80% of completion is still a whole heck of a lot that you’re able to get done. If you can’t pull off a 500 person conference right now, but you can do a 50-person meetup, do that instead. If the idea of writing a book seems daunting, but you’re able to stick to a weekly-ish schedule with blog posts, do that instead.
Keep going.
The important thing is not to let the mythical ideal of perfect circumstances allow you to avoid doing something with what you have.
You can just go for it, with what you have, and where you are, today.
It’s not always going to feel like the right time. It may never feel like the right time. You can still keep going, and try to do a little bit anyways.
PS: If you’re thinking about joining B-School this year but it feels like “not the right time,” ask yourself if it’s REALLY not the right time or if you’re avoiding the scary and unpleasant part of showing up in all of your imperfections. Because it’ll never be the right time—it will only ever be right now.
I hedged and waited for a long time before I signed up, and I wish I’d done it sooner. The thing that tipped me over the edge? I was walking down the street in New York City using voice-to-text to send a note to my husband. My phone autocorrected “Marie Forleo” to “For Leo.” Leo is my kid’s name. When I saw it on my phone, I thought, what the heck. Let’s just go for it—DO IT FOR LEO. I decided I would invest in my business and my growth by learning, no matter what. I was pregnant, tired, with a toddler at home, and a brand-new business venture that was in the VERY early days. But I took the leap, and I’m glad I did. Would love to have you join me if this is your year.
Sign up for B-School here and get my 2020 Accountability Group as a bonus. If you want to read through all my bonus details, you can do that right here: SKP’s B-School Bonus.
Just remember to sign up by Friday, February 28th because doors close and won’t open again for another full year.
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