Another way…

Yesterday, I climbed out of bed and stumbled downstairs as though I had a hangover. My head hurt, my body ached, and I felt a little woozy. I curled up under a blanket and began to sort through the emails that had been stacking up for the past couple weeks. By 10am I had retreated to my comfy chair to journal and begin to unfold my life from the crash of the past few days. By 11am I was back at my computer, trouble shooting and desperately trying to make a deadline. When the dust settled, I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and went to bed. I slept like the dead, but when I awoke, I felt more human. This morning, I awoke and felt like a whole person. I find the process of putting myself back together much harder than the process of working myself into oblivion.

For me, the past few days have pushed at my endurance and made me realize that I cannot do what I once did. Over the past year, I have come to this edge again and again. I don’t like it. My mind swirls with questions. I’m not sure if I am still recovering and my stamina will return or if this is my new normal. Either way, I don’t like it.

The scariest thing I realized over the past few days is how familiar this experience feels. I lived in this swirl of adrenalin and fatigue for years. There was a time, when this was my normal. Now, with a few years distance between that reality, I find it surreal. I remember vividly, coming home after a grueling day and falling into the sofa. My words and my energy had been consumed in my daily dash between 8am and 4, 5, or 6ish.

My friends once offered me a “crash helmet” because when asked about my new job I continually responded, “Well, I get shot out of a cannon, every day. Every day. Sometimes, it is at 7:30 in the morning, sometimes not until 11am. Occasionally, not till later. But every damn day, I get shot out of a cannon.” I learned to adapt to getting shot out of a cannon. Right up until I learned that I didn’t want to live that way anymore.

It’s been two and a half years since I said no to that lifestyle. In the process of reclaiming my life, I have learned so much. Nothing about this time has been easy. I began three new jobs, faced overwhelming health issues in my husband’s life and my own, and have lived through the loss of a parent. Nothing has been easy, and yet, it is better. So much better.

Recently, a friend and colleague from my former job asked me how I am. The truth is, I am more grounded and whole than I’ve been in a decade (or maybe more). The unraveling that has spun me against the wall, has also provided important clues about how I want to live my life. I am learning and growing. It is well with my soul.

Along the way, I’ve been reminded of some important truths

I am not the center of the universe: This one always shocks me. I don’t know where my overwhelming sense of responsibility comes from, but it is not entirely helpful. I once shocked a colleague by proclaiming that “succeed or die trying” could be our family motto. She thought maybe I needed to take it down a notch. She was right. Thankfully, I serve a God who is the center of the universe. Staying in close contact with Him helps me regain my rightful place in the universe. But to be honest, this truth can be a slippery. The longest space in my life is the distance between what I know in my head and what I experience in my life. Remembering is a daily practice for me.

Managing my energy is my responsibility: While I have an overwhelming sense of responsibility for the world around me, I can easily forget that I am only really responsible for myself. I let my calendar boss me. I let other people’s expectations boss me. I let events and experiences get in my way. I struggle to live as though my energy is a finite resource that must be stewarded well. I come back to this truth again and again. I am learning but this is hard for me to live out daily.

My life is made up of how I spend my days: My life isn’t just the years between my birth and death.  I am learning that my life is actually in the tiny moments squeezed into my days. My calendar is a better indication of my priorities than any other. I can say that things matter to me, but if I don’t actually make time for them, do they really? I can say I value people, or projects, or ideas but if I don’t actually spend my life on them, do I really?

I don’t know if it is cancer or turning fifty, but these things are crystal clear to me now. I would have told you that these things mattered before, but I know them differently in this season of my life. In the most difficult seasons of life, we often learn the most important things. I am learning a new way to live.

So, I am pulling myself back together with gentleness and compassion. I am grateful for the opportunity to pour myself out for things that matter to me, and deeply aware that after an execute week, I must fill back up.

Where are you today? Are you in the middle of a pouring out? Or are you needing some time to refill the cup and recover your resources? I think that life is basically made up of pouring out and filing up, repeat, repeat, repeat.  

Then Jesus said, “Let’s go off by ourselves to a quiet place and rest awhile.” He said this because there were so many people coming and going that Jesus and his apostles didn’t even have time to eat.  Mark 6:31