My sweetheart Dave moonlights as a tax preparer, and every year at the beginning of February, he begins his Groundhog Day schedule. He works a full day at his day job, evenings and Saturdays at a CPA’s office, and sees his own clients late at night and on Sundays. Somehow, I always seem to have a major writing deadline during the same period. With Dave not around to keep me company, I often work 12-hour days.

Somewhere around mid-March, we start saying to each other in the morning, “Is it Groundhog Day again?” As we feed the cats and brush our teeth and stumble off to work, it feels like we’ve already done this day a thousand times before.

For us, this phase only lasts the twelve weeks until April 15. Then we take our annual trip to Hawaii, and return home to a more normal existence that includes time for learning, play, contemplation, and rest. But I remember the days before I learned how to live a balanced life, when Groundhog Day was 365 days per year.

I see many of my students and readers now trapped in the same cycle of endless work and responsibility. Their day begins with making breakfast and lunch for the whole family, getting everyone dressed, and delivering them where they need to be. Then they’re off to work. If they commute, they’re often checking voice mail and making calls on the way.

After a full day at the job, it’s time to ferry the kids to or from their next activity. Eventually, everyone gets fed, then there is more work to do for the boss or their business, housecleaning or repairs to be done, volunteer work, or yet another activity for the kids. By the time they lie down at night, there’s often six hours or less before it’s time to get up and do it all again. Weekends get filled up with more of the same. It seems there’s always something important scheduled and pressing errands to run. And there’s never enough time to sleep.

What living like this does to you is not only exhaust your body, it hardens your heart. Even if you began with the best intentions — to do a good job for your family, your employer, your clients, and your community — when there is no time to breathe, you start to emotionally shut down. In addition to chronic illnesses caused by the physical strain, you develop a short temper, selfish attitude, and a world view that ends at the tip of your nose.

Selfish, you say? Me? When I spend so much time doing things for others? But the question to ask yourself is, are they the right things?

Are you a real companion to your children or their grumpy chauffeur? Are you a true partner to your spouse or an exhausted cook? Are you really doing your best for your boss or your clients, or are you stretched so thin that your work is often barely adequate? How many of the activities in which you are engaged are really the best use of you? And how can you know if you never have the energy to look beyond the next five minutes?

If you’re not happy with the answers these questions provoke, maybe it’s time to wake up from Groundhog Day. In the movie, Bill Murray’s character Phil finally wakes up to a new day when he starts making different choices. At first, Phil spends all his time trying to “get it right.” He does the same things over and over, hoping that somehow he can produce different results. (Sound familiar?) When despite his efforts, he remains stuck in the same endlessly repeating day, he becomes depressed and attempts suicide. But there is no escape; he simply wakes up right back where he started.

Finally, Phil takes two important steps: he tells the truth about what’s happening to him, and he asks for help. And what is the advice he gets? Instead of struggling to get it right or fighting to escape his daily existence, he is told to experience life at its fullest. Phil starts to really connect with the people around him, to listen to what’s important to them, and to help with their problems instead of being focused on his own. He joins into the community and works to develop his talents and share them with others. He begins for the first time to live a balanced, compassionate life.

Real life answers aren’t always as simple as the Hollywood version, but as fables go, this one holds some valuable lessons. At the end of the film, Phil says, “No matter what happens tomorrow or for the rest of my life, I’m happy now.” Sounds like a life worth living, doesn’t it?

Copyright © 2004, C.J. Hayden. All rights reserved.

This article first appeared in my blog How to Become a Hero in April 2004, and has not been printed elsewhere. If you would like to print it in your publication, please contact me for details and permission.

“How can I help?” is one common question. “What will this economic downturn mean for my business?” is another. I also hear people asking, “Is what I am doing really meaningful? After all, if I don’t know that I’ll be alive tomorrow, is this work where I truly want so many of my waking hours to be spent?”

It all adds up to a time of doubt, rethinking, even total confusion about where you are headed and what to do next. For me, what uncertain times require is the assurance that only comes from being firmly grounded in your personal values and a sense of purpose. What does that have to do with marketing your business, you might ask? I think it has everything to do with it.

If you want to sell someone else on something, you had better believe in it 100%. If you’re having doubts; if you’re no longer sure that the business you are in is the right one to be in, how can you possibly be sincere in your marketing?

We’ve all been sold to by an inauthentic salesperson — and hated the experience. As an independent consultant or professional, what you are selling is you. You have to believe in yourself or no one else will. When you find yourself in a place of questioning, perhaps it’s the time to better align what you do for a living with what you want to do for a life.

So many people have told me in recent years that they want to be of service in some way. I don’t think there is any more powerful way to be of service than to earn one’s living at it. Why? Because it’s where your vocation meets your avocation, your labor intersects with your values, and the purpose of your day joins with your purpose for being alive.

This is the concept of right livelihood, well known to Buddhist teachers and modern writers such as Marsha Sinetar, who describes it as work “consciously chosen.” She also assures us that it doesn’t have to mean vows of poverty.

Here’s what I know. My own work is consciously chosen to honor some of my highest values: being of service, creative expression, human connection, and independence. Until I found this work over fifteen years ago, I wandered from one career and business enterprise to the next, with minimal success at any of them. Marketing was always a struggle. I was afraid to do it and procrastinated to avoid it.

When everything turned around for me was the moment I declared I would start a business that honored my values. As soon as I did this, marketing became effortless, and more than that, overwhelmingly successful. I could speak authentically about my belief in what I was doing, and people I had never met suddenly believed in me.

Some of you reading this are working in a business you don’t believe in. My prescription for you is simple: get out, and find something else. You want a competitive edge in a tight marketplace? Finding and following your right livelihood will give it to you. (I’m speaking from experience — the U.S. was headed into a recession at the time I redirected my career path.)

For my other readers who believe you truly are on the path of right livelihood already, I gently invite you to look again. What action have you not taken, what territory haven’t you entered simply because of fear? Please notice that the fear is still there whether you take action or not. If you have to be afraid anyway, wouldn’t it be better to be moving in the right direction?

Copyright © 2001-2005, C.J. Hayden. All rights reserved.

This article was first published in the October 2001 issue of the Get Clients Now! E-Letter and updated in 2005. If you would like to reprint it in your publication, please contact me for details and permission.