Funny thing happened this morning while I was getting ready for the day, dashing between shower and hairdryer and all that good stuff that makes us presentable (presumably) to the general public...I had a flash of insight, an epiphany of sorts. Odd how that happens in the bathroom, isn't it? Perhaps it's because that seems so often to be the place that we allow our thoughts to wander, to be unguided be all the minutae that will, no doubt, assault us later on in the day.
Anyway...as I combed my hair and rubbed in my moisturizer, I thought back over the non-events of my Tuesday (yesterday) and how frustrating it seemed to be. Not that anything really happened...quite the contrary, actually. Which was precisely why it had been so frustrating. Granted, it was something I had brought on myself, as I'd worked so furiously to get ahead enough to actually have a little breathing room, a little time to relax or take an afternoon off...a little time to enjoy the fact that I had a clear list of finished assignments. Oddly enough, I was too worried about the very fact that I had a clear list of finished assignments without having any more lined up to actually enjoy my time to breathe.
Yes, I breathed. But I didn't breathe a sigh of relief or contentment. I hyperventilated, stressed over my momentary lack of assignments.
That's me. A worrier who worries when I'm not worried, because clearly, if I'm not worried, I must be overlooking some shoe that's about to drop.
What's up with that? It's a tendency I'd like to change this year––not a resolution, but a goal. A part of my character that I know needs to be reshaped by the realization that things are really okay, and that in those times of quiet, it's okay to relax and enjoy the gift I'v been given by having that time to just be.
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