Simple Things

I make lists.  I have notebooks with various lists all over the house.  When I feel overwhelmed, I begin a new list.  I love checking stuff off, and love the feeling of accomplishment that gives me.  So why am I feeling lately so overwhelmed when I look at my list?  So much is getting crossed off, but the list keeps on growing and growing so it seems endless.  I've stumbled upon a blog (that I am now addicted to), and while much of it is stellar information and ideas, one basic simple thing has popped out at me that helps answer why my to-do lists are killing me.  Each day, define your three most important tasks.  That's it.  Out of your list, make three things the MIT's and do them.  Seems like a no-brainer right?  But here's the thing.  In her examples, she has things like "spend quality time with family - picnic?" and "tell Sue funny joke" and all kinds of other relationship related things.  Woah.  You mean I can (and should) put those things on my list?  And that they can (and should) be on the MIT's?  Hallelujah!  It's only been two days of trying this and I am already feeling a difference.  It really is the simple things that make all of the difference. 

Digging out

My whole life it seems I've been working so hard.  Moving so fast.  And sometimes getting it all done.  How on earth have I survived so long at this speed?  I think my time for chaotic squeaking by is up, and as difficult as it is to let the madness go, it has to stop.  Clearly, I have been creating things to keep myself occupied - even creating "work" so I can avoid other things on the to-do list. 

I was at the home of a client the other day, and I walked by the moms desk.  It was a small, neat, simple wooden desk, with a notebook on top of a clear space.  She had a love note from her husband pinned to the wall, and a small flower in a vase.  It was a picture out of a magazine,  but this woman lives like this.  Now, I have had public spaces that look like house beautiful, but my desk has always been organized chaos.  Seeing this lovely scene with one planning book made me furiously jealous.  I want that life.  The one where I can be methodical and neat and orderly.  Where I can walk to my desk and not get sick to my stomach looking at the piles of crap that I "have" to go through. 

That was a few weeks ago, and that combined with a few other "aha'" moments, I'm finally doing it.  One step at a time.  I have a small notebook that I now carry everywhere I go, and I jot my "to-do's" in there as I think of them.  I've even delegated a few to Honey.  My menu and grocery list are in there, as well as project ideas for the house and kids.  I've been shredding papers, reorganizing files, and creating a yard sale/freecycle pile.  I've done a bit of yoga and some meditation.  I've even begun thinking about what life would be like with just one focus.  That's a whole complicated thought process, and my hang ups about being productive, busy, important, and "using my degrees" are messing with my head.   But I'm thinking about it, which a big deal. 

I'd like to live a more purposeful life.  Right now it feels a bit like a waiting game, but I can feel the sands shifting.  Here's to a calmer more peaceful me.       

Fresh Start

I've written resolutions almost every New Year as long as I can remember.  They are often things that I want to change about myself or my lifestyle, and they are often set aside by mid February or so.  Setting a goal to change an inherent part of me, while admirable, seems like a backhanded way of saying "work harder, be better, try to be perfect", which of course is not possible. 

When I worked at gyms for years in college and afterwards, the staff always used to brace themselves for the onslaught in January, knowing that by March they'd all be gone.  We had contests and specials, trying to keep people there and focused on the big picture, but we always lost a bunch after a good solid run.  They just petered out.  So many resolutions, health related or not, are like that.  We approach them with focus and gusto and then wear ourselves out on the idea and give up. 

I'm all for a clean slate and starting fresh in the New Year, but it 's the way that we (or maybe just I) tend to write goals that is sticking in my craw.  I feel like my goals have always reflected my need to climb and scramble to be somehow worthy all these years.  That I and my life are never *enough* and there is always something more to be coveted.  This year, life is different, and the resolutions reflect that.  There is nothing I want or need.  There is nothing I wish to be that is different from right now.  I am grateful and present, and that I will remain that way is my one wish. 

Happy and Healthy New Year to all of us.

Self Centered

When I walked in to the the apartment, I was surprised by the grocery bag with box stuffing, canned cranberry sauce, and a roasting pan for a turkey sitting beside the door.  I thought to myself "huh - I didn't know they did turkey on Thanksgiving" and for a split second I thought that the mom had just come in from shopping and laid her things down by the door.  Then I realized that here was a care package delivered by some charitable organization to families in need during the holidays.  I also realized that all the things still in the bag were probably going right back out the door to someone else who would use them.  Not everyone cooks a turkey, likes turkey, or needs a turkey.  It was the first time I had considered all of those holiday dinner care packages in this way, and realized how much we don't know, or don't ask, about who we are helping to feed. 

I'm noticing this year that while people have their hearts in the right place, we are a very very self centered country when it comes to "our" holidays.  This morning at the grocery store, the cashier behind me asked the little boy if he was ready for Santa.  "Have you been good?"  Of course he's been good - he's barely 2!  What could he possibly do that would deem him "bad enough" for Santa to ignore him?  Then she went on about Santa not coming if he was a bad boy and such.  Good lord.  Maybe he doesn't celebrate Christmas.  Maybe his family has never talked about Santa. And maybe his family feel that all children are "good" regardless of the imminent visit from St. Nick.  I'm glad we weren't the ones in that line, since I'm not really sure how that conversation would have gone. 

Assumptions.  It's just that we assume that everyone is just like us.  And the reality is that they are not.  We live in an amazing multicultural world, and my area in particular has a huge variety of people from every country imaginable.  Each family has wonderful, varied traditions, dishes, customs, ideas, and holidays.  What if... instead of assuming, we all asked.  What if, we said "what is your family's favorite holiday?"  What if we asked what they do to celebrate?   What if we asked what they most need or want to help their celebration?  What if we cared to know?

Zombie

There are moments as a parent when you are in a weird kind of twilight zone.  You are acting and speaking, and at the same time, listening to yourself with disbelief at the things that are currently coming out of your mouth and at the actions happening, but seemingly unable to stop the train.  Recently, I was having a whole inner dialogue with myself (mostly consisting of "really? you really just said that?  seriously?") as I was getting more and more amped up about something the kids were doing.  As I extricated myself not so gracefully from the situation, I thought of this post with a much more eloquent inner dialogue than mine that reminded me that my job is to teach rather than to expect.  We are all doing our best and there is no need to be perfect.  We can always start again. 

Lessons

Sitting outside today at playgroup with some moms from HMN, one commented that sometimes the hardest part is just to get out of their way.  The kids, she meant.  Once they started rolling with their imagination and creativity, there was a house and family on top of the playground collecting sticks, mulch, ice, and who knows what else for their dinner.  A lot of cake making was happening inthe sandbox.  Pushing, pulling, riding, digging, collecting, feeling, talking, directing, negotiating, assisting, all led by them.  I watched in wonder as my lately quiet and shy girl set out the scene and directed the players.  I loved my little one working hard to follow the rules laid out for him a nd trying to pull his weight.  Parenting well seems like less work.  It's allowing them to work it all out and deal with the messiness that is scary I think, so we get too involved and take too much responsibility for what is not our to take.  A lesson that gets repeated whenever we need it so it seems. 

Tired

Once you decide to change one thing, life becomes a slippery slope it seems.  Wake up and get out the door by 7, only buys stress and anxiety.  Traffic adds to that feeling, and then another hour long trip home with the darkness coming earlier and earlier makes me feel like I am missing it all.  I'm trying to make time for fun activities before dinner, with some success, but the two leisurely days I have with the little one each week remind me of what I am missing with the big one. 

I'm still trying to get into the groove myself.  Deciding what fits and what doesn't, what must and what can't.  It's not even close to what I need.  Clearly the things that didn't make the cut are the things I need most for my sanity - exercise, blogging, time with friends. 

And while school is great for one kid, we are still in a wait and see holding pattern with the other, so that adds to my stress.  Did we make the right choice?  Is it worth turning it all upside down?  Can't I just be with the kids and not rush around making more money so I can spend more money so I can not have time with them, so I can have someone else play with them and teach them all day?  Even the questioning becomes a slope to slide right down. 

So I'll question and tweak, and make it all work.  But I have to tell you that right now I am just plain tired.