Worthiness Wednesday #66 Plant a seed

Over the weekend, I clocked myself. That is to say, I noticed myself doing something that I often say I don't want to do but never seem to be aware that I'm doing it until it's too late.

I was sitting on the couch, fretting. My daughter was unwell. My husband was unwell. I was unwell. My mind was zipping in a zillion different directions. How I could fix things. How I could change things. All the things that needed to be done. All the things we could and should be doing. All the ways I was failing everyone.

Then I stopped for a moment and looked at them, my husband and daughter. Really looked. Yes, they were unwell. My daughter was flaked out in front of the television. My husband was taking it easy, reading the weekend papers. We'd all had a bad night's sleep and a grouchy morning. None of us had eaten all that much.

But here we were. We were doing OK. We'd taken the medication appropriate to be taken. We were resting. And, apart from that, there wasn't really that much else to be done. None of us was feeling all that flash, but there was nothing else for it than to just sit and not feel flash.

And, just like that, I stopped. I stopped fretting.

Periodically today my To Do list threatened to take the wind out of my sails. Every time I stopped and let myself think about what's waiting for me at my day job tomorrow, the e-course I'm behind on, the creative project I've agreed to be accountable on, the writing opportunities that are here now and fleeting, the food intake I am also trying to be accountable for, the washing up, the laundry, how filthy our floors look... I could feel my heart beat in my ears.

But, despite that, I took this afternoon off. I sat down on the couch and watched Hugo on DVD with my little 'un. I can't remember the last time I did that i.e. sat down for two hours and/or watched something not specifically aimed at kids.

Please don't get me wrong. My perfectionistic tendencies have not evaporated overnight. Far from it. In fact, when I log off, there will be another couple of To Do list frenzies, namely my little 'un's dinner-bath-brushing teeth-bed routine and then the get-everything-ready-and-tidied-for-when-my-Mother-in-Law-comes-tomorrow routine. And then I hope to eke out a couple of hours to progress a couple of creative projects that I am struggling to otherwise prioritise.

Then I'll collapse into bed depleted, defensive, distracted and likely unable to sleep for quite a while. Then I'll wake to do it all again tomorrow. This is the way things are.

But a seed has been planted.

Things won't alway be this way.

This week, I invite you to plant a seed. Nothing drastic, nothing huge. Just a tiny idea, with a luscious little pocket of love to protect it and allow it to germinate. Could it be that, right now, there is nothing more to do, nothing more to be? Could it be that sitting down and watching a DVD or reading book is exactly the right thing to do, even though you have a To Do list as long as your arm?

It seems to me that change really is possible, provided you can cultivate some courage and a long-term view along the way.

Because you are worthy of life beyond that fretting, frenetic space. You are worthy of self-care. And self-love.