“Make friends with the problems in your life” - Sarah Young
My very existence hinges on planning and plotting. My brother-from-another-mother, Trev, calls me Captain Organisation, such is the busyness of my life. I feel like if I am not doing something that (in my mind at least) is changing the world, then I am at nothing. I don't do sitting around very well, except if I am reading a book and even then I am charged and excited. If I'm not running, I'm drumming, not drumming, writing, not writing, getting some outdoor activity with my beautiful kids. Over the past few months, I have been juggling a few balls and trying not to drop any of them. Earlier this week, something that was going to clear a ton off my plate didn't materialise the way I wanted it to. I was stunned! Floored! I actually sat across from the person delivering said news with my mouth agape. It took me another five minutes to humbly gather my things before walking out like a puppy dog who has just seen his owners hand him over to a kennel and drive away cheering. I wrestled with it over a few sleepless nights before taking the time yesterday to do nothing. Nothing. My run was not even a run, it was a walk. As in walk a bit, stop, look up at the trees and listen to the birds. I checked out little flowers that I had always breezed past before. I came home and left my books alone, turned on no music, spent time with a great neighbour, took out the over-flowing pile of recycling that threatened to engulf my kitchen—everyday things with no agenda in front of me. All in all, I know that these type of let downs are extremely hard to accept, but they also serve as a reminder that letting go is the only way to have some semblance of peace. I pride myself on being as patient as I possibly can with the world around me, as long as things are going the way I want them to. When the shoe is on the other foot, though, and I think of the advice I would give to another in the same situation, I get snappy at my own internal dialogue. There is always time and energy to do more and the greatest lesson I learn each day is that I have to know when to walk away. Surrendering to something that is out of my reach is an Achilles heel I must try to protect and overcome. I can be thankful that each time I hit another wall, I am hopefully one step closer to taking it in my stride.