One thing I have learned from writing a blog is to always keep a post or two written ahead of time, so I don’t have to think of something at the last minute.This comes in handy when something happens and you don’t have time to write (like having a baby).It’s pretty obvious, but this was written last week right after our first trip to the hospital…
For those of you who don’t know, my wife is pregnant and is ready to give birth at any minute now.To say that she is about to pop is an understatement – she looks like a tick that struck a vein.She was induced with our first child, so we had a nice controlled setting where the contractions began at the hospital with all the beeping equipment already hooked up and charts drawing little mountain ranges.This second one is a little different.
She began having contractions early last week.They started getting more frequent and then subsided.On Wednesday night, they really got going.At first they were about 12 minutes apart and not too uncomfortable (easy for me to say, right).Then she went into this quiet phase where she wasn’t really giving me much information.I don’t do well when not given information.I kept asking her what was going only to hear a sheepish, “I don’t know.”
I had no idea how frequent her contractions were, but mine went from about a minute apart to a constant tightness.I was becoming the stereotypical sitcom father-to-be.Sara called the paging service for her doctor and was waiting for a call back.Sara was patiently sitting with the phone in her hand.I was frantically checking bags, packing them in the car, changing camera batteries, making sure the dog had plenty of food and water, taking the dog out one last time, rechecking the bags, checking to make sure we had our insurance cards and identification, unpacking bags to find said identification, repacking bags, reloading the car, mowing the yard, changing the oil, painting the kitchen, milking the cows, and washing the windows.
About 20 minutes later, still no call from the doctor and Sara was still waiting patiently with the phone in her hand.By this time I had whipped myself up into the Looney Tunes depiction of the Tasmanian Devil and not so gently insisted that she call them back.Shortly after her second call to the paging service, Dr. Payne called us (I guess Dr. Misery, Dr. Anguish, and Dr. Distress were out of town).Once again, Sara is on the phone and I am outside the information loop – not good.
To make a long story short, although the contractions got down to 4 minutes apart, she didn’t go into full-blown labor and my shortcoming of being a massive control freak was underscored.For you women out there, that is why men are so bad at the whole birthing process thing.We have not control and are reduced to bystanders.Yeah the nursing staff may call us “coaches” but who are we kidding?Of all the people in a delivery room, I am the least mission critical.
Now, rewind back to those moments before we went to the hospital.I had no control over what was happening, so what did I do?I created a bunch of busyness to keep myself occupied so that I could believe that I was somehow being productive.It seems foolish and almost comical, but don’t we do that all the time?We feel the urge to seek out and fulfill our mission, but to do so would mean giving up control.When faced with the possibility of losing control, we create work and busyness that we can control however tedious and unimportant it may be.We’ll generate reports, send meaningless emails, do housework, or start a new project for the sole purpose of being in control.Remember when we talked about significance a while back?I think we are prevented from experiencing true significance until we surrender control and stop doing work just for the sake of working and staying busy.
Are you overcome by busyness?Do you spend your time frantically working toward insignificance?Where are you afraid to give up control?
September 12, 2008
Control Freak
Posted by Jason Barr under Social Commentary, career | Tags: career |Leave a Comment
One thing I have learned from writing a blog is to always keep a post or two written ahead of time, so I don’t have to think of something at the last minute. This comes in handy when something happens and you don’t have time to write (like having a baby). It’s pretty obvious, but this was written last week right after our first trip to the hospital…
For those of you who don’t know, my wife is pregnant and is ready to give birth at any minute now. To say that she is about to pop is an understatement – she looks like a tick that struck a vein. She was induced with our first child, so we had a nice controlled setting where the contractions began at the hospital with all the beeping equipment already hooked up and charts drawing little mountain ranges. This second one is a little different.
She began having contractions early last week. They started getting more frequent and then subsided. On Wednesday night, they really got going. At first they were about 12 minutes apart and not too uncomfortable (easy for me to say, right). Then she went into this quiet phase where she wasn’t really giving me much information. I don’t do well when not given information. I kept asking her what was going only to hear a sheepish, “I don’t know.”
I had no idea how frequent her contractions were, but mine went from about a minute apart to a constant tightness. I was becoming the stereotypical sitcom father-to-be. Sara called the paging service for her doctor and was waiting for a call back. Sara was patiently sitting with the phone in her hand. I was frantically checking bags, packing them in the car, changing camera batteries, making sure the dog had plenty of food and water, taking the dog out one last time, rechecking the bags, checking to make sure we had our insurance cards and identification, unpacking bags to find said identification, repacking bags, reloading the car, mowing the yard, changing the oil, painting the kitchen, milking the cows, and washing the windows.
About 20 minutes later, still no call from the doctor and Sara was still waiting patiently with the phone in her hand. By this time I had whipped myself up into the Looney Tunes depiction of the Tasmanian Devil and not so gently insisted that she call them back. Shortly after her second call to the paging service, Dr. Payne called us (I guess Dr. Misery, Dr. Anguish, and Dr. Distress were out of town). Once again, Sara is on the phone and I am outside the information loop – not good.
To make a long story short, although the contractions got down to 4 minutes apart, she didn’t go into full-blown labor and my shortcoming of being a massive control freak was underscored. For you women out there, that is why men are so bad at the whole birthing process thing. We have not control and are reduced to bystanders. Yeah the nursing staff may call us “coaches” but who are we kidding? Of all the people in a delivery room, I am the least mission critical.
Now, rewind back to those moments before we went to the hospital. I had no control over what was happening, so what did I do? I created a bunch of busyness to keep myself occupied so that I could believe that I was somehow being productive. It seems foolish and almost comical, but don’t we do that all the time? We feel the urge to seek out and fulfill our mission, but to do so would mean giving up control. When faced with the possibility of losing control, we create work and busyness that we can control however tedious and unimportant it may be. We’ll generate reports, send meaningless emails, do housework, or start a new project for the sole purpose of being in control. Remember when we talked about significance a while back? I think we are prevented from experiencing true significance until we surrender control and stop doing work just for the sake of working and staying busy.
Are you overcome by busyness? Do you spend your time frantically working toward insignificance? Where are you afraid to give up control?