As I near the end of my teaching career, a friend pointed out that I’m not retiring. I’m simply going from 12 jobs to 11 jobs.
Not true, but not completely false, either. I won’t be retiring. I’m simply shifting more of my time and energy to consulting, public speaking, writing, and performing — things I’ve been doing already, but will do more of moving forward.
“How do you juggle so many balls at one time?” someone sitting at the table asked.
I’ve been asked this question before. It always surprises me, because the answer seems so obvious:
I don’t juggle anything.
Yes, it’s true. I do lots of things. I have lots of balls in play. But I don’t juggle any of them. I pick one up. Spend some time with it. Deal with it. But then I put that ball down and pick up another one. Deal with it. Put it down. I don’t juggle. I handle one ball at a time.
Only a lunatic would try to write a novel while ministering a wedding, consulting with Microsoft, and teaching long division to fifth graders.
This explanation has provided some clarity and even a little hope to others.
Someone who read me say something similar in an interview a while back wrote to me and said:
“It seems a lot easier to chase my side-hustle knowing I don’t have to be thinking about both careers at the same time. It sounds ridiculous, but taking that juggling analogy off the table helps a lot.”
I have always advised people to be working on their next career. Allocate a small percentage of your time and effort to your next possible job. Your dream scenario. The business you might someday launch. The creative endeavor that you’ve imagined since you were a child.
Always keep looking for your next great thing. The next chapter in your life. Your future great adventure.
But don’t juggle.
Never juggle.
Simply do one thing, then stop and do the other.
