No. Just no.
That’s how I felt this morning when I woke up to my husband’s alarm. For once, I didn’t have to be up early and the last week had been full of early mornings and long days. Let me catch you up…
The evil device…
I worked this past weekend overnight on Saturday. Our overnight shifts are 16 hours, which may seem like a long time, but they used to be 24, so I’m not complaining. When I got to the hospital at 4 pm, I learned about our patients in the hospital and sat down at the computer to work on the May schedule before anything could start up. But as soon as I did that, the phone started ringing. Our acute care center was sending me a patient who was bleeding internally and needed emergency surgery. I got it all set up, met her in the OR, and fixed the bleeding. I spent the rest of the night admitting patients, helping my midwife deliver babies, and all the time answering calls. When I handed off the phone in the morning, I had taken 32 separate phone calls. Needless to say, I was ready to get out of there.
Sunday was The Superbowl, and against my better judgement I agreed to host our family group from church to watch the game, hoping I wouldn’t have a hard night at the hospital before the party. Nope. So I slept a little during the day Sunday and held on until after the halftime show, at which time I shut it down and went to bed.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were either catching up on admin work, early meetings and office days, or running around doing emergent cesareans at the hospital. By the time we got home from midweek service on Wednesday night, I was toast. The original plan was to leave town Thursday afternoon for the weekend, but plans changed and suddenly I had some free time. Free time – what’s that? So I thought I’d catch up on all the different projects and ideas I’d been wanting to work on. I started making my lists.
Usually making lists helps me get a grip on all the thoughts swirling around in my head, to feel less like I’m going to miss getting something crucial done. Unfortunately, this time I just got completely overwhelmed. When did all this stuff come up? How did I get so far behind? So when the alarm went off in the morning, I wanted to go on strike. Instead, I got up, made some hard boiled eggs in the Instant Pot for the kid’s breakfast, and gathered all my stuff.
See those piles?
And then I decided I didn’t want to do any of it. Or maybe I did, but I couldn’t decide what to do first, because I couldn’t do it all in one day. And who decided that it all had to get done today? Did I really just create this whole mess in my mind from the gift of a couple of free days? In the midst of my mental gymnastics, I had one of those quiet, nagging, not-from-my-own-mind thoughts: What would you do right now if you did what you wanted?
I didn’t like that question. I tried to avoid it. Really, who has time to think about what I want to do when I have free time, because I never have free time, right? That was the problem. I actually did have free time and I didn’t know what to do with it except fill it up with lots of things that needed to be done. That’s what I always do. If I’m not working for work, I’m working for home and family, or I’m working on a project or course or training or something. And they’re all good things. But if I don’t know what I really enjoy, what’s fun or exciting or entertaining or interesting to me, then the who-I-am gets lost behind the what-I-do.
Who I am or what I do?
A lot of women feel this way. We spend so much time being producers – the working and teaching and care-taking and giving and serving that we do for others are all ways we produce. We begin to identify ourselves with the roles we play and the service we provide. I think this is why many women feel lost when their children leave home for college or work life. A very important role they’ve played is ending, or at least changing dramatically. Sometimes, we can’t remember who we were before all the responsibilities, and we don’t know what or who we are now. Years of being too busy doing life instead of living life can do that to you.
What’s the alternative? If we’re not producing, then we’re consuming. I can sometimes feel like that’s dirty – that’s taking. Aren’t I supposed to be giving? That has just got to be selfish, right? It’s almost as if I can feel like I’m taking enough by being around and taking up space and breathing. Maybe I’m alone here, but it feels like I’m being self indulgent by doing things that are just for my pleasure. Like reading a novel. Not a book for growth and mind expansion – just a quick and easy crime drama. Or watching a movie. I don’t do that very often, but I really do like the superhero movies. And if Perry didn’t love them too and make me go, I’d probably never see one in the theater. That’s kind of sad. What’s wrong with enjoying my life?
Besides, you’d never starve yourself and think you should run a marathon. You have to put something in to get something out. It can’t all be potato chips and candy – that’s not good fuel! A little here and there is fine just for fun.There’s also plenty of consumption that’s also important and good for me AND that I enjoy – like reading the stacks of books I have on personal growth and leadership and vulnerability and emotional eating and herbal remedies and essential oils (those are just the ones I’m working through now!). I also love how I feel practicing yoga and going for walks outside. I love bubble baths and candles and sitting by a crackling fire. Smart TV with political themes and intelligent dialogue get me involved every time. And I love learning and growing in mindfulness and becoming more present in the moment and less connected to things in my life. All of this together, my productivity AND the wholesome and the “junky” consumption – all of this makes up who I am, the lovely and quirky, the beautiful and unique and strange. It’s me, and there’s not another like me out there. Just like there’s only one of you.
Here’s a thought: what if each of us are created for an particular, extraordinary, individual purpose to fulfill here during our lives? I don’t mean famous or meant to influence lots of other people. I mean that our being, the self we are designed to be is intended to move others who connect with us. But in order for that express purpose to be met, we have to be the unique being we are here to be. We have to know who we are to live out our intended being. Life and busyness and pain and self protection can make us hide and forget. We have to remember.
If we can each let our special original self emerge to share with the world, what might life be like? What wonder might we become?
