Ya know, the agricultural analogies are pretty useful, eh?
A friend and I were going to get together. She called me and said, she realized she needed to focus on giving herself more oxygen, before she could supply it to anyone else in the cabin (that’s how she put it).
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ve been realizing that I’ve spent so much time sowing seeds for future, wonderful projects, that I have had almost no attention on picking the fruit that’s harvestable right now.”
After this analogy dropped into my head (maybe it’s all the rain we’ve been having), I realized how apt it is, and how often I forget it. You can have the greatest seeds in the world—the seeds of your greatest, truest, magical dream. But if they’re not ready for harvest, you can’t eat them. As animals, we needs to eat—every day. That meanst we need enough harvestable fruits to surive every day. And even if the fruit was from some old project that we now feel we’re done with—you feel sick of that work, and you don’t want to give anything more to it—if that’s all the fruit you’ve got to eat, you’d better harvest it.
In the past, I’ve walked away from fields of such easily-pickable fruits, only to come rushing back to them, to eat a little more—and in the process, forgotten to tend to the seedlings of new projects—which, typically, began to wither and droop in the sun, and often simply die of neglect.
So I guess the moral of this story is, if you want to make a transition to some other kind of work—and you don’t have some extra source of income (a spouse, a parent, a loan, etc.), you’d better remember to tend to that harvestable fruit (or you’ll starve), and you’d better really take time to nurture those seedlings and encourage them to grow (or you’ll get discouraged, lose faith, and perhaps steel yourself against future disappointment by never trying again).