Inside my brain, there are two entities locked in battle for control of my life.
The first, surprising exactly none of my friends, is a Golden Retriever. Spry, eager to please, always in pursuit of snacks. This is the side of me that is in love with life, who signs up for everything, who nods eagerly in meetings. Yes! That’s a great idea. YES! Let’s totally do that! Oh, there will be cookies? Even better! Ever the optimist, this side of me lives by the mantra, JUST SAY YES, and it’ll all work out.
The other entity dwelling within me is the bedraggled and tired old sap holding the leash. This is the side of me who has to make sense of each calendar day filled with wildly conflicting commitments. (I have to be in two places at once AGAIN?) This side of me drags her feet when it’s time to leave the house for that thing we said we’d attend and feels paralyzed when that deadline approaches. This side of me is tired of being dragged down the street by that damned Golden Retriever and would love to sit down for a spell.
In March of 2020 the Golden Retriever was strapped into a cone of shame for its own safety and forced into a kennel.
The keeper of the leash set the leash down, stopped moving, took a deep breath, and listened to the birds.
When the world stopped and we all stayed home, I was prepared to feel itchy and twitchy. Those feelings never arrived. I was shocked to discover that I liked slowing down. I craved balance. It was then that I realized for the first time that there are these two sides to me. (I guess the dog never looked over its shoulder at who was trailing behind?) It was at this time that I also realized that the side that holds the leash to my life is also the side that writes, that reflects, that notices.
Through this pandemic, I learned that there is value in doing, and my life is rich for saying yes, yes, absolutely yes to the opportunities that come my way, but there is also great value in allowing space in my life for peace and rest and thought.
This balance that I want in my life won’t happen accidentally. I understand now that I have to work for it. I must occasionally say no. I must occasionally keep my hands in my lap. The eager pup must learn to heel.
Postscript:
The side of me that charged full steam ahead to bring back Write 6x6 was absolutely the Golden Retriever. The side of me finally sitting down to write this belated post is the keeper of the leash.
The Golden retriever also humbly requests that you still ask her to participate in things. (Especially if there are snacks.)
