Welcome to The Pause, dear friend. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.
Hey 🖤. It’s been a couple of months since we last met and I’ve missed being here with you. Life got hectic while planning my grandpa’s celebration of life, and while there seemed to be an abundance of tiny moments filled with reflections on what it means to live a good life through the lens of my grandpa, it didn’t feel like there were many opportune moments to actually sit down and process how I could incorporate those tiny reflections into my own life.
Lucky for me, my schedule is settling for what feels like the first time in six months or so and I’m feeling that internal peace I always feel whenever I get to write to you. Thank you for patiently waiting for me while I attended to my life outside of these moments we have. I’m grateful to be back with you.
To jump back in, we’re going to take a moment and consider whether being reactive in our lives is necessary.
Settle in, take a deep breath, and get ready to pause in 3…2…1…
Reactive
The past six months of my life have felt like one reaction after the next.
I’ve been that kind of busy where I simply can’t fathom thinking about what’s happening next month, week, or—sometimes—even tomorrow for fear of overwhelm freezing me solid.
I know it’s not beneficial for me to be reactive for that long of a period of time. It’s not good for my sanity. It’s not good for my self-care, and it’s definitely not good for my relationships—mother/daughter, marriage, family, and friendships included. But even with this knowledge, I still find myself in May of 2023 having been reactive for almost six months straight.
When I’m in a reactive state I lose sight of enjoying what I’m doing in the present and instead become a checklist-obsessed machine—only finding satisfaction after I have fully completed whatever task is at hand. I raincheck myself on things that make me and my body feel good because “there’s not enough time.” I mentally drift away in the middle of conversations with people I love in a demented attempt to listen and plan my next task completion at the same time. I forget to intentionally be present for the things that matter—the miraculous little moments—and then feel guilty for having missed them at all.
When I finally hit the point of burnout—that moment the awareness hits I’ve been prioritizing almost every task/project/other person above myself—I know it’s time to let go. I desperately (and sometimes begrudgingly) admit I have too much on my plate. I allow myself to acknowledge I’ve been trying to do too much and be too much to too many people, and throw up the white flag. I can’t do it all. I can’t be it all.
It’s a relief to acknowledge this. To finally see myself and the stress I’ve been putting myself under trying to do the most and be the best. And even though I’m disappointed I got to the point of burnout, I also admire myself for having done enough work to know when enough is enough.
It’s true that some phases of life require that we be reactive. But, I think if we’re honest with ourselves, most phases of life don’t, and perhaps it’s good practice to question more often whether the phase of life we’re in is actually demanding us to be reactive or if it’s subconsciously being self-imposed.
⏸ Pause
Take a moment to check in on how you’re approaching life.
How are you feeling about your approach to life right now? What’s working? What’s not?
Is there currently stress in your life that is self-imposed? What is it?
Which projects are you working on that really need tending to? Which don’t?
Which people really need a response from you? Which don’t?
What happens if you allow yourself to really acknowledge I can’t be it all and I can’t do it all? What do you let go of first?
I love and appreciate you for being here. Writing The Pause fills me up and it was sadly one of the things I stopped doing for myself over the past couple of months.
Thank you for sticking around. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled twice-a-month meetings starting today. 🖤
~ L
P.S. One of the things I did while I was away was make this for my grandpa’s service. In the first minute, there’s a video of him and my Nana dancing together from the 1950’s or 1960’s that brings tears to my eyes every time.
What a beautiful tribute, Lindsey!