Behold, the Anti-Cricket!

I thought I’d blog a little before I start work for the week. At the moment I have a couple of private clients who are fun to work with – and then I have a couple of contracts which are a little less fun.

Of late, my weekends have been punctuated with anxious sessions at the computer answering emails, preparing documents that I didn’t get time for during the workweek, and sometimes bouts of do-i-really-have-to-work-tomorrow-depression on Sunday afternoons where I’m no good to anyone.

This weekend I decided no emails, no stressing about work, no wondering how I’m going to fit it all in on Monday. I decided to recharge me and recharge the relationship with the family. I spent Saturday morning attending a great seminar (where I caught up with Chris of Pink Apple and actually met Mad Cow). Once I was home it was seminar notes and briefcase into the office and Pete into the x-box room where Oldest Son was arrogantly destroying the other teams in the Polish premier soccer league (FIFA10, folks).

The rest of the day was spent in such activities. It was amazing, though,  how often a little voice would try to steal my attention (and action) away. The voice said  “I’ll just go and check my emails” and “Wouldn’t you like a nap?”  and “Your son will be fine without your attention” and “This is unproductive” and “Watching your son do stick figure animations is boring, go read a novel or draft a marketing plan or draw up a timetable or something“. I call that voice my Anti-Cricket, as in the opposite of the Jiminy Cricket conscience character in Pinoccio (or however you spell it). It’s the opposite of the voice of reason (which we blokes seem to do a better job of not listening to). Well, if I can habitually not listen to the voice that tells me “Eat the apple, not the cream bun”, then I figured I could not listen to the Anti-Cricket.

So I spent Saturday afternoon and Sunday locked in occasional battle with the Anti-Cricket and apart from couple of moments where the diary came out, I largely defeated the little bugger. It’s been a lot of fun just hanging out, rebooting my own centredness and enjoying the boys having fun.

And wierdly, sitting down to work this Monday morning with a little more to do than usual, I actually feel calm. The late Sunday depressive illness only hung around the edges of my awareness for about the length of a commercial break and was chased away by more FIFA10 and stick figure animations.

I must say, I highly recommend chilling out with a focus on the kids. Good for the soul, good for the family, and I suspect good for the work output overall.

The Anti-Cricket can go chirp up someone else’s tree next weekend too.