As I write this, I hear the neighbor chickens caw and whistle loudly, which brings up how the last few weeks I’ve been rushing around like a crazy chicken. (No offense to the chickens, but you do get very loud when you lay eggs.) I’ve been trying to be very responsible, be good, get things done, and I feel like I’ve been attempting to please some unknown source by all of my activity. The expectations and my to do list have overwhelmed me and the list seems to grow like a weed.
Listening to my wise basset hound yesterday, I took some time out to relax this weekend, sit on a swing in Nature and contemplate what the rush was all about. Immediately, guidance came in that I needed to make a schedule. I’ve been busy with my business, but then I also took on a part time job that I love. I hadn’t entirely juggled the two yet.
Mapping out the schedule of what I needed to do and placing it in little time blocks, I had an epiphany at 3:30 in the afternoon.
I’m visual and it was all there in a clear picture. What I was asking of myself was unrealistic, even insane. I could see before me that I only had a certain amount of hours in the day to do what I needed to do and I was expecting so much more.
This is not a new struggle.
As a sensitive person, I often forget that I do overwhelm easier than most because I take in so much information and feelings at once, but I insist on to living as a non-sensitive, driven person. I guess in some ways, I would be considered what Elaine Aron would call a “high sensation seeking sensitive,” I bore easily and I have a ton of creative, hummingbird energy which soups me up. I also come from a successful, achievement-oriented family, which translates to driven, and ambitious. Back in the day, I used to be Type B and I liked it. But now I found myself hearing that small voice inside of me whispering “not enough yet, keep pushing.”
That voice didn’t matter now. I had the proof in front of me. Unless I cloned myself or hired several assistants to do the work I wanted to do for me, it wasn’t going to happen. I was going to have to set limits with that very real voice. Sorry, voice, but here’s the schedule, here’s the time I have allotted, and unless, you can find me an extra seven hours in the day, this is staying.
I reflected on my parents’ lives. My dad had his own business and worked what seemed like twelve hour days. He didn’t have to raise children, clean house, or make dinner. He could focus on just work. When my mom went back to school and then work, she also brought work home to do, and I don’t know how she did it. She still had to cook, run a household, and take care of a family. No wonder she had back problems. I think deep down I was trying to emulate her and instead of back issues, I had headaches.
I looked at my own life in comparison. My life right now is as a single animal mom and I juggle the pt job, the business, my own ambitions and schooling, the incontinent, elderly dog who needs help getting around, the large yard that needs tending, the rest of the menagerie and their health issues, and it doesn’t seem like that much, but looking at this schedule, I realize for me, it is. And having this schedule with its little boxes so everything can be more manageable, and there’s still room for rest and family and myself sounds more healthy balanced to me, which is the goal or it really should be. I didn’t see that in my mom’s life. I will have to accept my limits and be strong standing by them. I thought it was because I am very sensitive I can’t do much, but this exercise has showed me that it’s not about being too sensitive, it’s about being realistic of what is humanly doable/possible for me, not the voice and what it can do, but I can do. I will have to risk disappointment.