"You are on this Earth to do amazing things."
I sucked in my breathe and, possibly for the first time in my life, I couldn't think of anything to say. Maybe I am here to do something amazing. The problem is that I was getting too caught up in etiquette, politics, arguments, negativity and trying to prove I was right. Some people may dispute the part about etiquette, but I really do try.
I want people to understand my point of view. In fact, I want them to blindly agree with it, even if it turns out to be wrong. I'm just that kind of person. I'm not conceited or egotistical, I just think I have the answer. I once heard Dr. Phil say, "Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?" I say it to my husband all the time. But it really relates to the workplace, too.
From over a decade in the library business, I know that I can't keep my opinions to myself. Sometimes I walk into a meeting having convinced myself that I will not say a word. That promise usually lasts less than a minute. But I think this is going to change. Because I just want to do amazing things.
I've been stuck in a rut. I've started to sink into the minutia and argue about things like which logo goes on the summer reading sheets. I know people care, but do I really need to spend more than a minute considering where to put the tax forms? In the big scheme of things, does it matter if I decide to circulate new materials to other libraries after 3 months or months? While all of these things do matter, and they are part of my job - they are merely a small part that is only noticed by a few people. That's not amazing. It's not even remarkable. In fact, it's downright boring. If, in library school, they told you that this is what librarians do, there would be no librarians. At graduate school graduation, we all have stars in our eyes to rush out into our communities and affect change. Somewhere on the drive home, those stars disappear and we get stuck trying to figure out how to catalog a Kindle.
So my Guerrilla advice for this week is simple: Go do something amazing. Put all the petty arguments away and step back so you can get a good view of the big picture. What's going to make your library worth the money you spend to keep it in existence? Do you really want your obituary to read, "That lady really knew how to catalog a Kindle?" I don't.