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A little more than 10 years ago, Jeff and I sat on a beach in Fiji on our honeymoon and discussed the kind of life we wanted for our family in the future. After a decade or marriage, the details are a touch fuzzy, but I remember the big picture.
We talked about making sure travel was high on our priority list. And we talked about living a balanced life; making time for the things that are most important to us, working hard, but also having the time to do the things we want.
God, we were so young and idealistic.
I find myself in a space lately where my balance is not the kind of balance I want at all. It’s all work and snow days and parenting and no space and time for myself except in teeny doses.
Every morning I wake up with a ridiculous to do list to get through for that day. And the question is whether or not I can sacrifice any of that to carve out time for myself.
Inevitably, of course, I CAN find some time. I create it; force that time for myself. Because otherwise I am bitchy and yelly and resentful and tired and grumpy and not at all fun to be around.
But to do WHAT, then?
I have a billion things I want to do: I want to write. Write in my journal, in this space, my novel, create posts a writer’s group I just joined, in Storium. I want to cook, to create new soups and try new recipes. I want to meditate, do yoga, swim, bike, and/or run. I want to research bikes and triathlon training plans because I love geeking out on that kind of stuff. I want to talk to and see my friends and family and the people I love and do nice things for people who are suffering and could use the extra love.
Because exercise is one of my biggest priorities, I end up taking that little time I can carve out for myself daily to work out. Which, I will admit, helps me mentally and physically on a host of levels, and it’s never wasted time.
But I make no progress on all of the other things I want to do.
I feel like, in my life, I’m running in the 100 inches of snow we’ve gotten this month. I expend all this energy on a daily basis, collapse into bed at the end of the day with exhaustion, and I’m no further down the path of personal fulfillment than I was that day on a beach in Fiji a decade ago.
And I’m not really sure if there’s anything to do about it, really.
For the foreseeable future, my list of Things I Want To Do will far outstrip the Things I Have Time To Do.
I think this IS my balance right now.
And I really don’t like it.
Anyway, that’s a long way of apologizing (or not, maybe?) for my lack of presence here, in this space. I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I wrote here last, and I wish I had more time to invest.