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Working title

Working titles – the Jane and John Does for projects. You don’t know what to call them yet so you are giving them a temporary fictitious persona. And it will keep this name, working with it till you know where you and Jane are heading. Then the real name comes along and she doesn’t has to adapt because it will feel natural. It will fit like a glove. And I’m not talking about boxing ones. She won’t fight it because that is the way it is supposed to be. She’s done all the work, now she can just be.

Sometimes I’m wondering if that is what life is: a project with working titles.

This project just takes longer. It has multiple fictitious persona. I should probably say my life this and that because there could be a few out there who went from happy fat baby straight to happy fat undamaged grown up. They were one of the lucky ones with a proper project name right from the start. No working titles needed. A clear path in front of them, an unquestioned purpose in their hearts, always knowing what to say when. They are these kids that are dreaming of becoming a firefighter and then become one.Their actions are their words. Nothing between the lines, just open books, big shoulders to cry on and gravity-like strength. I admire them. Fuck it, I envy them.

While they are gracefully walking the clear path, I’m the clumsy oaf who is ruining the perfect cut lawn next to it because I just can’t seem to see the red carpet to clear path heaven. Compared to these people I feel like I’m stumbling from one working title to the next. Sometimes work in progress x lasts a couple of years, sometimes months. And other times my mind makes up new ones without talking to me first and just says one day “Tada, fuck the last 13,978 steps you took. We’re heading this way now – deal with it!”. Ok, I know I sound crazy and confused. But then again: isn’t life like that? It’s fucking confusing. ALL THE TIME. And sometimes crazy. A lot more crazy than you thought (you could handle). It can hit you with a sweet ass chocolate cake or with a proper hardcore bitch slap that knocks you out for a couple of [insert experienced unities here]. How can you not zig zag around when that happens?

I’m doing it right now. So let me try to zag back to the title of this post and the content I wanted to write: when life is a project that consists of working titles – who is planning it out? Who is defining the stages? Who is planning the resources? Who is deciding what the goal for work in progress x is? Who is deciding when you can give it a real name?

You get where I’m heading with this, a pretty clear path: it’s you. No one else can help you plan this thing called life. No one else should decide what kind of stages you want to accomplish nor how much energy and sweat and tears and laughs you put into this. No one will define your working titles and no one will tell you when it’s time to give this baby a name. Except you. It seems so obvious but it wasn’t for me. I guess the last zig I took made me realise that’s what my lifelong working title will be: “How to be my better project manager” – till I decide I’m done and happy with the outcome of this project. Although this last metaphor means basically death I’m rather talking about the outcome to be a happy “This is my life”.

So scratch my envy part above because I believe you can only truly get there after a couple of stumbles, chocolate cakes and bitch slaps.

Post from: 24.04.2017
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