I am feeling the weight at the moment. Not the weight of worry, or the weight of despair, but the weight of good things.
The weight of so many really good books, piling up on my bedside table that I have started reading and not yet finished.
The weight of the myriad of great creative links my online friends have suggested. All open in another tab to read / listen to / download one day.
The weight of any number of spring projects that need attention around our house.
The weight of friends I should text, email or Skype.
The weight of fifty different activities I could do with my children at any given time. The weight of whether we focus on reading, or animals, or numbers, or sea creatures, or countries, or …
All good things, all worthy of time and attention, and all of them weighing me down.
Non of them urgent, there will be no dire consequences if I don’t read a few books or links. Maybe my house will suffer for a few more weeks with windows in dire need of a clean, and my kids will just learn as they play and ask questions through the day.
And isn’t that the point? It is more about me, this weight. In a sense it is self-inflicted, because really it doesn’t matter if these things don’t happen. It’s the fact that I see them and can’t get round to doing them, that’s what makes me tired.
The way I see it, I have two options. First option, find some time to do some of the things that I see undone and make some progress. Second option, let go of my own expectations, give myself a break, quantify what I do actually do in a day, breathe and allow things to be half-done, undone or not even started.
I know I have a tendency to take the first option, and then beat myself up when things remain unfinished, so today I am going to try the second (for me much harder) one.
It is okay if books aren’t finished and links aren’t read and windows not cleaned, because today I have provided craft activities and play-doh (and cleaned up after); I have fed my children and myself a number of times, (and cleaned up after); washed and hung and folded clothes; read books; helped with puzzles; cuddled; adjudicated arguments; soothed tempers; rubbed bumped heads and toes; changed nappies; and listened to an impromptu musical concert, and all this before lunch. Sometimes it is not so much looking at what you don’t do but what you do do that makes the difference.