I recently had one of the world’s very best digital agencies all but begging me to go and help them out with a tricky piece of work for 6 months over in Amsterdam, one of Europe’s most vibrant and beautiful cities. They offered to ship me over, help me find an apartment (and pay for it), and pay me my top whack day rate. Plus, they’re a really good bunch of people doing some reall good and interesting work.
I didn’t even have to interview – they just heard that I’m among the best at what I do and decided to get me in. I’m immensely flattered and grateful, and you’d think that it’s a no brainer, right? Especially for someone like me who always talks about how important it is to be open to risk, opportunity and possibility. I should have leapt at this fantastic opportunity that was handed to me out of the blue on a silver platter, and told you all about what a great example I am.
But I didn’t.
I effectively turned it down.
Why?
Because I’ve become conditioned to live within a smaller world.
It’s coming up to the 2 year mark that I’ve had chronic fatigue syndrome. CFS is part of my life and like any other part of my life I have to accept it – even embrace it – or be ready to pay a cost greater than the disease itself. In doing that, it limits what I do and how I do it. My condition isn’t as bad as Christine Miserandino’s, but I still have to count my spoons.
I’d love to go to Amsterdam, work on a great project, hang out with some good people and enjoy the city during Spring and Summer. Sounds pretty amazing doesn’t it?
But I’ve learned 2 things.
- To manage CFS I need to have things pretty carefully arranged. I need to not be rushing around not knowing what’s going on; I need to have things in their place.
- Sometimes CFS bites me hard, and when that happens I need to feel at home. I need to be able to relax, with all the things around me that I might need while I stir myself back to life.
Those are the reasons why I felt it wasn’t right for me to rush into something that might not serve me well. They say that CFS sufferers have the best chance of beating it for good within the first 3 years – and I’m determined to be part of that group. The risk that I could have this for the rest of my life completely terrifies me, and I guess that fear and the reality of having to work with the condition are stronger than anything else right now.
So that’s why it feels a bit like I’m a fraud – telling you to do stuff that I’m not willing to do myself. Perhaps telling you this will cost me some brand equity, but if I’m not honest with you then what the hell am I doing here?
The good thing is that I now have a great relationship in place with these people, and have something of an open door for when the time’s right. For that, I’m immensely grateful. For conditioning myself to live a smaller life, I can’t even be frustrated with myself. I’m not frustrated, I’m not angry, and even though there’s a hint of disappointment I just have to acknowledge it openly and move on as best I can.
And I guess that’s what this post is all about.
- Other articles you might like:
- 7 Ways to Win in 2009 #5: Mind Your Head
- 3 Strategies to Conquer Your Fears
- World Domination: An Englishman Abroad
-
Tes
-
Dale
-
Steve
-
http://modite.com Rebecca
-
Dale
-
Steve
-
http://janebradbury.com Jane
-
Steve
-
http://www.feelingbetteryet.com TiredGuysWife
-
Steve
-
Pineapple2248
