Quote from Anne Morrow-Lindbergh

Today I am feeling as though this commitment to blog every day might be a bit much. Even though I do love it, and I definitely feel compelled to write nearly every single day.

I am feeling overwhelmed. (This is a word I use frequently, because it fits. I don’t feel desperate or crazy or slightly irritated. I don’t feel sick, or even tired. Rather, I feel like I am underwater. I’m having a hard time getting my breath, my chest feels tight, and I can’t seem to clear my head.)

Organizing all of the details of this family’s life has depleted my reserves. Even just looking at the calendar for the next two weeks is making me dizzy. I am someone who really needs a lot of breathing space in and around the time that’s committed. The calendar is much more full than empty right now and the chaos created when we are all going in different directions at overlapping times is hard for this highly sensitive person to keep at arm’s length.

I’m also carrying around a lot of love and concern for others. But that’s not unusual for me. I sit with those people and their pain in my heart, then I pray for them, then I carry them with me some more. It’s ok; this is what I’m meant to do.

And I have a lot of work to do. Grant proposals and web sites and writing and more. Which I am grateful for…really. To be able to work from home, not ever having had a lapse in clients during five years…I know that it’s an incredible gift. But boy, am I swamped right now.

Yesterday my yoga teacher Sarah mentioned that the ancients believed that the hips were where humans – especially women – carried most of their emotional pain. Is this why I have so much trouble with my hips in yoga practice? I wonder how many hip openers I will have done by the time I’m 80? And will my hips feel any looser after all of that effort? Here’s hoping that I will be more spry when I am 80 than I am at 40. It’s a worthy goal, don’t you think?

The good news is that at this stage of life I’ve learned how to get myself back above water. I can do the things that I know will replenish me. (Starting with an early bedtime tonight.) In the meantime, I can breathe and seek silence wherever possible until things even out again.

So if I must write (and I think I do), here’s what I’ve got for today.

It will have to be enough.