How can I simplify?
That’s the question I’m asking this month as I ride the waves of a packed travel writing schedule that has me dipping into Pennsylvania twice with a week in the Adirondacks (at a writer’s summer camp of sorts, no less) in between.
Simplifying doesn’t come naturally to me. I always want more.
More countries crossed off my bucket list. More books, when my nightstand is full of waiting-to-be-reads. More pets–well, I’ve reached my limit there.
More doesn’t balance well with self care.
This summer is shaping up to be an extra busy one, and while I want to keep everything running per usual, I’m wary of running around with my hands in too many pots. Intellectually I know that I’ll get more done by doing less, but determining where to relax–and actually letting go–is difficult.
Should I let the grass grow long, and save the hours it takes me to mow?
Should I order more take-out, and not deal with cooking dinner?
Should I stop watching Netflix at night, and use that time to get more writing done?
What is the best use of my limited time?
It’s not really the answers that are important, here. It’s taking time to ask. Stepping back as a form of self care is not something I’m great at. Pausing to measure what I’m working on, what’s working for me, and what’s worth it. Then acting on the insights that arise.
Underneath all this busyness is a chance to improve my boundaries and recommit to self care when things get busy. To get better at defending the sacred space of what matters most to me. To make decisions that are in line with my goals.
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