I started out this year with high hopes of finally getting some time to relax. I know—you’re supposed to have goals for getting stuff done, not laying around in a chair and reading books, but after the last six months, I was ready for some serious seat-time that didn’t involve revising.
Well, you know what happens to New Year’s Resolutions after a week?
Yeah. I’ve been over my head revising, not one but three projects. I’m waiting on the fourth one to land on my desk this week. Stick in a couple of books screaming at me to draft them, and it’s no wonder I wake up every morning feeling behind, although technically, I’m right on target to a little ahead of schedule.
This morning I woke up a little early. I haven’t been feeling well for a few days, and with the current panini sandwich, I felt it necessary to make sure I wasn’t running a fever before my better half went to work. No fever. But there I was, awake early, not ready to get up, with a million things to do. In the middle of all this mental churning, I heard a bird start singing outside the window. And I stopped my churning and simply listened as he took it a note at a time, never rushing, never stopping to do something else. He just sang. Then he went on his way.
And maybe that’s what I need to do. Slow down and take my time like a bird singing in winter. The tasks will be there when the song is over, but maybe I can go into them with a steady determination to get through without the rush, without the stress, without overdoing it.