It’s been busy. But not the same kind of frantic busy I was experiencing leading up to the holidays. That got bonkers. I seriously need to work on chilling the hell out in the months leading up to the holidays; has it always been like that? I don’t remember my parents seeming frantic when I was a kid pre-Christmas. Maybe they were and just hid it, or my siblings and I were comfortably and age-appropriately self-centered enough to not realize all that was going on for our folks. I don’t know.
I am now fully committed to getting real peaceful with what I can do and what I can’t, and what I want to do and what I don’t. I’ve definitely been reckoning with the fact that I could have done many different things in my little life, and that I’m a person with a bunch of interests. I’m often grabbed by something- an image, a topic, an idea, that with infinite time and energy I’d maybe be able to do something with. But I don’t have infinite time or energy, and I have certain commitments and have made certain love-filled promises that remain firmly at the top of the what I am doing list.
Anyway, I’m noticing that busy-ness is not feeling freakish of late. I think maybe after paring down and getting realistic, the responsibilities and endeavors that keep me busy feel much more grounded in the truth of my skills and my limits. Melancholy and peacefulness can live together, surprisingly. Letting go of desired but untenable pursuits is sad, but the process of doing so opens up energy and time to do what’s right in front of me, what is fueled by inspiration and honesty.
I guess those are my thoughts on this chilly Wednesday.