After a really lousy few days, there’s nothing like a different sort of reality check. For example, everything that could have gone wrong that didn’t. On a Monday!
- My computer didn’t crash.
- My car started despite the cold.
- I got the kid to school on time.
- His painting project is going well.
- I sent my documents that were due.
- My coffee was good, and I didn’t spill it.
- Cup number two will be brewing shortly.
Hey, as Monday mornings go – that’s not so bad!
I’m pondering the work day ahead – my writer work day and my parenting work day. And, the rest of the week will be tough as well. But this isn’t new territory, only tiring territory that has passed beyond my capacity. Or so it seems. But then the computer doesn’t crash, the car starts just fine, the kid is on time, documents manage to get sent, and coffee retains its excellence. Especially in my favorite mug.
If I can still find the bright spots, I know we’ll be fine. I’m soft-selling a bit; it’s a rough period, and it’s the accumulation of little things in life that often crush us. Yet little things also wield the power to uplift us – don’t you think?
Crazy schedules, difficult priorities
Yesterday, one of you lovelies recommended I consider taking the weekends off from this daily writing. It’s a worthy suggestion, and one I’ve considered. I simply haven’t been able to stop myself from writing, though I’m writing faster and sloppier. It doesn’t feel good. And yet, this writing – here – is one of the few things over which I have control in my daily life.
To be honest, I need this discipline and I rarely spend more than an hour at it any longer. Frequently, I’m pushing “publish” without an edit, which is not my style – but the way it is. While I’ve sacrificed my commitment to quality in these past weeks, hanging on to the routine of this morning writing feels important. For now. So I keep going with it, for now.
And of course, there’s the issue of priorities. I talk to my son frequently about time management and prioritizing, about the importance of recognizing what you love to do and what you have to do, and how that means making difficult choices. Am I an example of do as I say, don’t do as I do?
As for juggling – don’t we all have horrendous periods of doing so? At times, they seem endless. But then there is the bright morning in the jostling cold, the kid that smiles and is (for a change) on time. There is “you” – you who read, you who email, you who offer help and encouragement, and that is huge.
You are part of what keeps me going, along with insistence on these bright spots when I have the clarity to find them. And I hope, no matter what life dishes out, that’s most of the time.