Embracing the Whole Half-Empty Glass

I’ve been telling myself some lies.

1. Things will settle down after the holidays.
2. I will relax after I finish this project.
3. There will be time for that tomorrow.
4. This obstacle/leak/parenting gig/bad hair day is only temporary.
5. As soon as I…

• finish my degree
• get a job
• have a kid
• turn 30 (or more)

…my path in life will be apparent.

NEW, EXCITING PLAN:  EMBRACE THE WHOLE HALF-EMPTY GLASS! I am going to jump right into the deep end with my eyes wide open this year.

Guess what? Things are not settling down now that the holidays are over, but that’s OK. I survived the holidays, so I’ll survive this crazy patch as well. Unless I don’t, in which case, I won’t care.

There’s always more that needs doing, even after finishing every item on the To Do list. The point is to relax now and then along the way, or I never will. Even ten deep breaths between meeting a deadline and driving the carpool can make a difference. A yoga teacher explained to me the importance of corpse pose at the end of a practice. One of her students consistently left class early and neglected the last five minutes of rest and relaxation because he was in such a hurry to get to his next commitment. He went straight from vigorous exercise to the next stressful challenge. One day, he raced to his car, buckled his seatbelt, had a heart attack, and died.

Apologies. That was an extreme example. Maybe we should talk about bread instead of a dead guy. How after you pound and knead the bejesus out of it, you have to let it rest so it can rise and do it’s bread thing. You don’t wait until the bread is finished to let it rest. That’s too late.

Newsflash: there’s never more time tomorrow than there was today. In fact, unless you’re on some transatlantic flight, every day consists of 24 hours. If you’ve got to do something, just do it. Or rest. Do the task or rest. I’ve wasted so much time and energy on the in between stuff–mainly worrying. What a waste.

If I’m thinking, “someone else will do that,” that is a clear indication to me that I need to do it myself or choose not to care if it gets done. Anything else is a recipe for frustration and resentment. Unless my kids should be doing said task. Then I should probably nag them so they don’t grow up to be insufferable bums.

Speaking of which, parenting IS forever, but not every second of forever. I can’t tell you how many people have told me to savor this time–even the annoying parts–because soon the kid will move out and forget to call home, just like I did. That may well be the case, but as a mere mortal, I can’t possibly savor every moment. My kids are old enough to avoid sticking a fork in the socket when I’m not watching, so I should probably try to have a life now and then. At least, this is what I’m trying to tell myself. We’ll see how it goes.

This isn’t a phase. This is life. The journey doesn’t start after the degree/milestone/enlightenment. This IS the journey. I don’t need to worry about finding the path because I’m on it. As for the obstacles, they’re always there. It’s time for me to put on my hiking boots and tackle a few. And it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the view while I’m climbing over.