Do It Inconvenient

Nearly a decade ago now, I was spending a week with friends working at a summer camp in Western Pennsylvania. Many of my co-counselors were putting their full time jobs on pause as we unpacked bed sheets and box fans for the un-air conditioned dorm rooms we’d call home for the next seven days. 

I had used vacation days from my full time job, packed my things in a suitcase from New York City, and caught the bus home. I was looking forward to the time away from work, but, as always, hoping to work on Smile Project stuff in the early mornings, late nights, or quiet breaks in between camp responsibilities.

But I remember feeling like it might be tricky. In my NYC apartment, I had my desk in my room, set up with my notebooks and white board and other “things” I thought I needed in order to be able to work effectively. 

Then, one of my co-counselors showed up with a t-shirt printing press—part of his work. He would be continuing to work as well, even though surely it was deeply inconvenient to traipse the materials to camp. 

It sounds so, so silly, but I remember being extremely confused by his decision. “Isn’t it hard to do your work not at home or where you usually do? Like in your usual set up? How are you going to do that here?”

I remember his confusion at my confusion. 

Since then, I’ve realized that there is no perfect place or environment. If you’ve convinced yourself there is, you’ve stifled yourself. Anywhere can be a place for creativity or play or focus. 

Since this epiphany, I’ve become far more mobile. With most of my work being laptop-centric, there’s no reason I can’t work from a coffee shop, a friend’s house, the floor of my family room. 

When I started recording daily “Happiness is” posts, I was a senior in high school. The year was 2011. I wouldn’t get a smart phone for many years. Which means the first hundreds and hundreds of daily joys were posted from a shared family desktop computer and later a personal laptop at university. If I wanted to post, I had to physically turn on a computer, log in to Facebook, and share the daily joy. 

It’s funny how old that sounds now. But in today’s much-faster-paced world, it also sounds deeply, deeply inconvenient. 

I so clearly remember driving home from a night out with friends in college, winding the rural roads of Amish country as we watched the clock inch closer to midnight, everybody comically on edge. I remember the laughter, fiddling with our dorm key, waiting for the computer to turn on, each minute pushing us closer to chaos.

I would say 95% of the time now, I post my “Happiness is” from my phone. About once a month, I go through and pull them into our digital database and copy them into my notebook. It’s a different system than when I started, but obviously easier. Now, I’ve posted “Happiness is” from the subway, the airport, a bar, a bathroom at a wedding, a friend’s rooftop, the Grand Canyon. 

It’s flexible now. Forgivable. A little loosier. A little goosier.

Perhaps there is something to training ourselves through something deeply inconvenient. To learning to stick with something even when it’s not intuitive. To flexing the persistence muscle daily. To knowing that if you can do it hard, you can do it easy. 

I love that I can post Happiness is on the go. I love that I am no longer at risk of a party running late and missing a day. But I also love knowing that if I could do that—start daily posting in a deeply inconvenient way—then I can also do things that feel hard or inconvenient or that I don’t feel I have the perfect environment for now. It’s a nice reminder of what I am capable of. And I have a feeling if you dig into some of your accomplishments, you’ll find that evidence as well.

So here’s to a week of doing things that challenge us. Doing things that make us better, one day at a time. Doing things even if it’s not convenient. Doing things because they’re worth it. And I’m grateful for the 5,128 days I have reminding me that it is worth it.