Tags

, , , , , ,

I’m in this strange space, this odd state today. It feels a bit like being hungover or jet lagged. I think it’s actually World Domination Summit love lag, a possibility hangover accompanied by waves of wonder and magic aftershocks that has brought about a sabbath, a day of rest that fell midweek.

I’m exhausted, existing in a whole other time zone, another reality. All I could manage today was walking the dogs, a shower, eating, and a long nap. This kind of day used to send me into fits. I’d power past the tired and overwhelm, keep working anyway, to the point of collapse or illness, chanting “have to, should, must, already wasted too much time.” I’d drag myself, push and pull and bully and smash myself to bits to get from this moment to the next, not stopping until I’d reached the goal, which I never did because I was always adding more things, having more ideas, creating more tasks for myself.

which way is up?

Be here now.
Be someplace else later.
Is that so complicated?
~Josh Pais (by way of Danielle LaPorte)

This goal thinking, this endless to-do list, this rush toward the real thing, the important moment, the big accomplishment, the grasping and reaching is exactly the thing that wastes time. It denies this moment, the one I’m in now. Denies my need for rest, to go more slowly, to ruminate and contemplate, to enjoy the ride. It says “hurry up” when I want to lollygag, fool around, dawdle. It rushes to get somewhere else when I long to be here, now.

So for today, I’m allowing myself to take it easy, to go slow, to accept that even if it means I miss out on something, it’s okay. Because what I definitely won’t miss is this moment. It’s all there is, and that’s such a gift, because in this moment there is the sound of the ocean and bird song, sun and a light breeze, two soft and sleepy dogs resting at my feet, my boy on his way to the store to buy vanilla ice cream to go with the peach cobbler he made while I napped, the tap of my finger on the keys and words to string together, and you, dear reader, to tell all this to. There is love and there is time, and that’s more than enough.

I am enough.

what tired looks like