There's this quick bit that has been playing during Marketplace on NPR. It’s called “My Analog Life.” The idea is simple. Look back on how work used to be done. Whether it’s stories of firing up a fax machine, navigation with printed maps, or using a rotary phone, they share memories of work from way back when.
A few weeks ago, I caught one from a person who ran the film at a movie theater. This week, a harpist who wanted to learn a new song. She was asked to play a specific song at a wedding, but didn't know the song. She couldn’t just download a single or order sheet music like we might today. Instead, she had to go down to a bar where she knew a pianist with a library of music for a brain. Every night, she'd go down and ask him to play the song. As soon as the song was over, she would run back to her apartment to write down the next section of the song.
I remember those days. My version was listening to the radio to make mixed tapes. Each night, I would tune into the top songs of the day and wait. The second that song would start, I’d have to press down the play and record buttons at the same time to add the song to my mixed tape. Thinking back, I don’t exactly remember the moment when I made the move to CDs or if I ever looked at all those mixed tapes with a moment of sadness. The transition happened subtly like when the leaves seem to change all at once overnight.
Change in my life has never been as subtle as moving from analog to digital. It just seemed easier, natural even, to make that shift from tapes to CDs. In life decisions? Not so much. There’s no clear right or wrong. That’s the hardest part about going all in on anything for me. Whether it’s moving into a van or adding new business offerings, I never know at the time if it’s “worth it,” whatever that means. I hold myself to a standard of knowing it all before I can be confident in the choice.
If I’ve learned anything from the last 3 years on the road, it’s that there’s always something new to know. There’s always something to learn. The more certain you are about anything, the more likely it’ll change whether you like it or not.
The more I talk to other people going through big life changes, it’s clear to me that we all have this little voice inside us that says change is a solo act. A lot of people think we have to have it all figured out before inviting people along the journey. That when we change, we need to DIY it.
All of us need to change that way of thinking. The reality is that solo change turns out about as well as a DIY home improvement project. You often have to redo it with an expert whether that person happens to be a therapist or a contractor.
The truth is that it feels a little different to change when you let people go on the journey with you. No one expects you to be perfect or to always stay the same. It could be the journey of learning a song, going analog to digital, or completely flipping a business upside down. The best part is that we get to do it together knowing that no matter what, it’ll probably change anyway.
