Confessions of an Overachiever

My trainer said, “Here’s a suggestion. Don’t write everyday.” I think my brain sighed and my body said this is truth. My soul said a quiet hallelujah.

Lately, I’ve been on a journey. It’s one of figuring out what my body needs and how I can find rest. I just finished reading a book called Rhythms of Rest: Finding the Spirit of Sabbath in a Busy World, by Shelley Miller.

For several years, I’ve been toying with making “body” my word for the year. A few years ago, a high school classmate died in a boating accident. The local newspaper reported, that they found his body about 100 yards from shore. It struck me then how a soul abandons its body like it’s a used candy wrapper. A body no longer needs animation if there is no spirit inside, no sweet goodness.

Like many of us during the the pandemic, I started putting on what I dubbed “pandemic poundage.” As my body started to feel worse and worse, my body mass index soared. I switched job positions and several stressful meetings made me soon realize that I couldn’t go on the way I was. It was a path that would lead to death if not the actual end, at least to one that had less joy and less living.

So we returned again to our old gym. I started getting counseling. I scheduled facials. Got manicures and pedicures. Signed up for the elite experience at the gym that included four monthly massages. Went on a better eating plan. Started taking yoga. Began to become more fit.

I guess you could say I buckled up and pulled an again in full “re” fashion.

Here’s my overachiever confession. I cannot do it all. I don’t know why I even suggested to myself and to you, dear readers, that I could possibly write 180 poems in 180 days. And, on Friday night I totally lost it because too much is too much. I started feeling disorganized, incapable, and dissatisfied.

Running an organization, trying to change years-long bad behaviors to better healthy ones, keeping the house organized, reading as much as I do, not only for pleasure but for learning and action, and so much more is enough for now.

In Rhythms of Rest, Miller says that being caught up in busyness results in soul amnesia. She further says, “For me ‘doing church’ [caught up in the busyness of it] is an illustration in slothful living — not laziness but mindless busyness, something you check off on a list for your week.”

And, the truth is, I cannot let writing just become something I cross off of my to-do list.

Miller also helped me discover something new about rumination, “Ruminating allows your mind to drift away from the detritus long enough for swirling thoughts to settle with different perspective.”

As I thought about this, it was better now to say, “Okay, self! Get it together and just say you want to commit to writing again. That you’ve left it too long to get back in the habit. Take it down a notch or two and just let yourself breathe and be and write when you’re inspired. Commit to share that with yourself and your friends and your readers. Stretching yourself too thin will not help.”

My trainer reminded me that what I was doing was a lot. I could write a sentence a day and still be writing and creating. I’m grateful.

Here’s my commitment. I’ll start writing and sharing poetry with you when I’ve been inspired and have something good to share. I’ll emphasize quality over quantity and not be in such a hurry.