The Sunday Dispatches
Paul Jarvis and his sexy logo.
Last week, one of our rats, Awe:ri, passed away suddenly. She had a stroke in the afternoon on Friday, and my wife and I watched her slowly go downhill and eventually pass at an animal hospital.

She has been part of our day for years—and most of the time—the best part. She’d get up when we got up, have breakfast with us (we all eat steel cut oats because they’re awesome), and then she would hang out with me all day because my home office is also the “rat room.” We lost her sister, Ohna', only two months ago.

We were devastated. Frankly, we still are.

When there’s any loss, or big change, or when things go directly to shit without passing GO, it’s easy to become introspective and self-reflective. And sometimes, that’s the only good that comes from loss.

Loss is a magnifying glass.

It allows us to step back and inspect our lives. Are we aligning with an actual purpose or direction we believe in, or are we robotically moving forward simply because that’s the direction we were initially pointing?

It’s easy to just become reactive and simply get things done because they’re things that need doing. But busy work isn’t always important work. 

Sometimes we need space, and a magnifying glass, to figure things out. Call it whatever you’d like—meditation, reflection, clearing your mind, standing in the shower and closing your eyes for 30 seconds. It needs to happen more often than we realize.

Important work simply has to matter. It doesn’t mean it has to reach the biggest audience or have the greatest world-wide impact or make a single dime. Sometimes important work doesn’t even involve real work, money, clients, or business. It’s just something you do that aligns with your intentions. Important work isn’t measured in terms of success or failure either—it’s just done.

This doesn’t mean that we can’t take breaks, shut off, watch bad reality TV for a day because we’re so sad we can’t get off the couch (my life, this past week). But when we do get back to the business of creating whatever our body of work will be, it needs to align—however we gauge or define our own alignment.

This is what’s on my mind this week.

In the midst of client work, building new projects, doing calls and interviews, writing, and “business as usual”—there’s grief. There’s reflection. There’s introspection. Is the direction of everything I’m creating truly something that’s important to me? Or am I just reacting to things already set in motion?

What about you?