I'm having one of those scratchy, sticky mornings. It started yesterday when I began to discover all that I had set aside to have Christmas at my house, travel for New Year's, travel again with family, and then to come home and have a delightful play date with friends. In order to focus on Christmas and houseguests and travel and more houseguests, I kept tucking away this pile and that, this errand and that one that could wait, temporarily.
Yesterday, as I checked in on check registers and bills, on the supply of dog food and groceries, a giant coffee and baking order also came in, with its own quick deadline. That order got bigger with a supplemental email a couple of hours ago. At the same time, today and tomorrow hold appointments that were put on hold because of the snow and ice storm (remember that?) and all the travel and the houseguests. This was the week that could hold them, because from way back there, it was empty, unaware of the impending spill.
In the old days, all this would be fine, because it would serve to make me feel more important, busier. I would wear the stress like a badge. As I went through my day, I could tell everyone of my schedule. I could hurry, make several lists. In the old days, when I really got into it, I would have multiple lists. And I could both check off and mark a line through each accomplishment, (that's embarrassing to admit!) emerging at the end of the day with a giant feeling of. . .what? Having made it through, certainly. Having survived it. There was an inflated feeling, which is necessarily distant, but I didn't know that. I mistook it for satisfaction, for happiness even.
Now, the challenge is different. The challenge is not how much can I get done? It is how present am I to my life, to life itself? The tasks on the list(s) start out the same, although they may shift in priority, and as they do, they may fall off entirely. But I still need to pay those bills that I put aside, make a bank deposit with checks people wrote for Christmas morning cinnamon rolls, pick up dog food at the vet's, go to the gym for a workout appointment. Etcetera, and more etcetera.
This is where it gets crunchy, where I need deep breaths and more deep breaths, and just plain time outs. The good and the bad news is that when I give up, and am willing to just be wherever I am, with whatever I'm doing, whatever it is goes more smoothly, and when I am finished, I have a sense of fulfillment that is far greater than simply crossing it off a list. It is kind of like I breathe into it, maybe even breathe with it. Maybe whatever it is - driving, searching the drug store for Plackers, roasting Costa Rican coffee - has its own rhythm. Maybe it is about "synching" up - not sure that is the right word, or how to spell it - but it has to do with synchronizing my internal rhythm and the rhythm of the task, working together, breathing together, being present to it.
I don't know. This is a lifelong re-education, I'm guessing. Not letting the tasks, or the looming lists of tasks be in charge, not letting the self-created anxiety build and rob me of life itself, the awareness of it, the preciousness of it, of the gift that it is, right now.
Right here. . .right now. . .I'm breathing. . .life is breathing me. . .how remarkable. . .now, to allow this to stay open. . .
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