I finally vanquished the constant chatter of fear in my head, and now I seem to be able to get more done. I show up wherever I think I need to and do what needs doing, often without listing it on a to do list. Yesterday I cleaned out the downstairs closet in need of a good purging for years. Today, I cleaned some windows and did some collaging.
As I’ve hired someone to do so biweekly, I no longer have to clean my house completely. I have no more allergy shots nor any other medical appointments, so my days are freer. I am not volunteering currently as covid’s lockdown showed me the meaning of peace. Now I can say no. And my kids are more self-winding these days.
This leaves me with an almost disconcerting amount of surplus time. I recognize that real actual time to do whatever I choose without feeling panicked or rushed is a blessing. Yet, it’s both a blessing and a curse. Because, while I can now be proactive and intentional about planning of my time, there’s a little more of an expectation that what I produce must be glorious.
This available unclaimed time is a perfectly lovely time to be creative, to work on projects, and to do the rest of my chores of shopping and laundry without being overwhelmed.
But I am not used to this freedom. It freaks me out a little.
As many others, I have always been a doer. I based every last bit of my worth on what I accomplished. And as it was never enough, I accomplished an alarming amount of productive work which I never credited myself with. With my over productivity as a norm, how can less productivity be a good thing?
I owe the shift to both the right amount of anti-anxiety medication and the forced strike I enacted against my compulsive doing this past Summer. Prior, I’ve had moments where I felt the righteousness of rest because I was sick. But this pause was very intentional.
As I enacted my mindful strike on productivity, I began to disprove my theory that I am what I do. My self-worth doesn’t depend on what I’ve accomplished today. I finally truly believe that. I find myself with almost more time than I know what to do with. Having opened up my schedule and my mind to the possibility of future time, I also recognize that this has always been possible. Kinda like replacing the mean husband with the nice one and having my kids, I just had to have faith in the possibility to create it. And then hold the faith until it became real.
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