It’s been quite a week for me, and on Saturday I decided to make a chocolate pie, a dozen chocolate muffins, and a diabetic-friendly pizza crust for the homemade pizza party my husband and I had that night. I don’t like to think about what it says about me that I felt compelled to do more after a frustrating week of work.
It’s a sad fact of my reality that I am not good with doing nothing. The problem is, sometimes doing “nothing” is exactly what I need to do for a variety of reasons.
First, I’m no longer in my twenties. I don’t have the same energy and drive now as I did when I was a younger adult with more years ahead of me than I have now. And that’s okay. Growing older beats the alternative.
Second, “resting” is not doing “nothing.” It’s resting. It’s recharging. It’s taking the time to smell the metaphorical roses instead of weeding the shrubbery beds.
Third, it’s not about whether or not I deserve to take it easy. This is the hardest point for me to remember. I’m not sure how much of it comes from being a preacher’s kid, or being a woman, or being a spouse, or being a healthcare worker. There are so many factors that combine to tell me that I need to earn a vacation, or even simply an afternoon off.
The list of things to do stretches out before me. I have a short story to finish that’s already outlined. I have another short story (or it may be a novella; not sure yet) that has a mushy middle I need to fix. I have a Mother’s Day present that is only a few rounds from being done, and I want to get it off that particular set of needles so I can start a birthday present. I have a Christmas present that I started way too early, but it’s fun to work on, but if I get it off the needles I can start another Mother’s Day present, which is necessary because three mothers equals a lot of Mother’s Day knitting.
But not today. Today I think I’m going to do a whole lot of nothing. And that’s okay.
Rachel
I'm a writer, a knitter/spinner/weaver, a young stroke survivor, and a type 2 diabetic.
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