If you read my earlier post, you know I’ve been in “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” mode. Not a space I enjoy inhabiting, but that’s where I am.
In times of high stress and difficulty, self-care is more important than ever. Taking a well-earned nap, spending time with loved ones, getting in that workout that reinvigorates you – these are crucial to surviving the onslaught of modern life.
Too many of us get into a grind mentality when things get stressful. We put on our good little Pilgrim caps and tell ourselves to push through, hang tough, and fight until the bitter end. And if a brutal New England winter is threatening to starve your entire settlement, then yes, this is a great mind-set.
But when your challenge is a job that throws more and more paperwork at you, or a house whose clutter has almost TARDIS-like qualities, a different strategy might better suit your needs.
Sometimes you just have to say no. Sometimes you have to stand firm and cry enough. It doesn’t make you less of a person to draw strong, sensible boundaries against the forces that threaten to take over your time, your energy, and your life. Nobody gets an extra cookie in Heaven for workaholism.
So, take this long weekend, if you’re lucky enough to have one, and give it to yourself. Wrap it up in a bow, and let yourself enjoy it.
The grind will still be there on Tuesday. And hopefully, you’ll be in a better position to face it.
Good night, dear souls. Sweet dreams to you all.
Almost forgot–music to dream by – Nocturne In Eb Major, Op. 9, No. 2 by Frederic Chopin
By the time Friday comes around, it feels like I’ve had a tap attached to my spine (like a maple tree). All the life essence is slowly drained by the stresses and frustrations of The Day Job until I feel depleted and weak.
The more I delve into the world of writing (and getting paid for writing), the harder it is to keep myself motivated at The Day Job. I do important work, and I’m very good at what I do. But there are days, weeks even, when I wish I could just head out in a random direction and live off my wits for a while.
The good news is that these impulses aren’t very strong, nor do they stay for very long. But they remind me, profoundly, that life is not what you do for a living, nor is it where you live and what you have.
Life is the sap of a tree, and you only have so much of it this time around.
So, what are you going to do? Let life drain you dry for its own profit, or use your own life-blood in the way you want?