I’m not sure when life first became a race.
Studies show that we begin absorbing our families stress and anxieties from the time we are born or even before. If that’s the case, I think I might have an inkling where this all began…
We went to a great one-man show on the weekend called Medicine. At one point in his excellent performance, he referenced his ego as my ‘stupid friend’.
It’s so true. Our egos are constructs we made long, long ago. Something we built piece-by-piece to help us cope with our families. And people, no matter how great your family was? I guarantee there were issues. We are, after all, human.
Thing is, like the QWERTY keyboard (which is based on manual typewriter functionality – uh, hello??) I have built my ego/personality as if The Rapture is about to happen any second. Why else this need for getting it done now?
As an example: I am currently typing this while wearing a paper painting jumpsuit. I have Benjamin Moore Stone Harbour blobbed on my glasses and hands. The paint can is on the kitchen counter, the brush wrapped in Saran Wrap. Why? Well, it’s obvious isn’t it?
If I quickly paint the bedroom areas that can’t be covered in a roller, slide over to the computer, write this blog, answer my email and then quickly slide back to do the next chunk of painting, well, hell isn’t that efficient? In between the roller portions I can have my shower and my hair will dry as I paint the next coat. Answer more emails, whip up some soup and still meet a new friend for coffee at 3 pm.
Are you with me?
Well. I’m not.
Lately, I have been getting much better at going with the flow. I have been more relaxed and able to remember that there is enough time in each day. Reminding myself that there’s enough time for life to unfold as it needs to.
But there are days – like today – when I feel like I have to take that big sheet of life and snap it open. I simply can’t wait for a slow unfolding. Oh no. Gotta go!
After all, I am on a deadline.
Oh yeah. I forgot. It’s self-imposed. I decided I wanted this apartment painted before we left for Mexico in 11 days. Why?
Well. Why not?
Dead. Line. Hmm.
Have I ever mentioned I love writing? It can take me from that first panicky sentence, down to this last one; these last slowed-down thoughts where I find myself breathing more deeply again.
Ahhhh…think I’ll have a cup of tea.
Enjoy your life. There is always the exact right amount of time.