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Before Christmas, I was on a roll. I had a yard-long To Do list and I was cranking my way through it, item by item. But after the holidays, that rhythm eludes me. I drag myself to the alter of work each day and not much happens. And then I get a snack. I've been hard on myself about it (both the snacking and the not really working). Which helps my productivity not at all.
Things had just about ground to a halt when it occurred to me that I am alive and not sick and there is no crisis. And perhaps it isn't so important how much I achieve in my day, or in my life, but how much I manage to do exactly what a given moment calls for, exactly what would delight and fulfill me most of all.
In other words, what if I simply rest when tired, eat when hungry, exactly what the body craves, cuddle with my husband. Call that friend, read that book, hike with the dog, play?
Yes, there are accomplishments I'd like to pursue and there is hard work ahead of me in that, and yes, I want to be sure to floss and put away the laundry and pay the bills on time. But maybe I want to ride the spin bike, shower, and spend an entire Sunday cooking for guests (pictures to come). And maybe after they leave I want to peruse that magazine I've been meaning to get to for over a month. And maybe right now I'd rather play Boggle on my iPod than work on my website redesign. Just for a little while.
What's wrong with that? Nothing. Nothing at all.