summer is over and i am thrilled
If you’re a mom, then January as the “new year” pales in comparison to September.
September is mom porn. Just looking at the calendar page in my planner makes me swoon. Ask any mom and they will get sparkles in their eyes when you say the S word.
Summatime is over. Kids are back in school. Fresh start. Clean slate. The 100 Day weekend is over and you f*ing did it. It’s a big deal. I celebrate all the moms out there. I see you sitting in your car post first day drop off squealing with delight. I’m with ya.
I’ve written about this magical time of year before. Because once it’s here there’s this dear in headlights kinda moment (errrr, day? week?) when you spin your wheels wondering what to do next.
You want to do everything you’ve ever thought of doing in your entire life, immediately. Like, yesterday. And there’s so much and it’s all so big and you have no idea where to start, so you organize your pantry. And that leads to the junk drawer. And then you might as well tackle the garage. You get me. You spin. You bury yourself deeper in the muck of meaningless busy-ness rather than soaring to the romanticized new heights of accomplishment and productivity that you dreamed of.
Then the twinkling alarm bell on your phone rings to remind you its time to pick up the kids. And that’s how it slips by. Not in one big whoosh but tiny moment by tiny moment.
Doing things that don’t matter does not fill your well. Trust me, I’ve tried.
Doing the things you constantly think about doing but aren’t doing? Those are the things that you’ve got to get after. Those will light you up inside. They will propel you to kiss your husband when he walks in the door and play hide and seek with your kids. To choose the salad over the burger, the sparkling water over the chardonnay.
They are all connected. When you stop thinking about the thing and start acting on it, some sort of voodoo magic happens and things flow to you rather than you grinding and efforting. There is an ease to getting the kids ready for school in the morning, you hum while folding laundry, you don’t feel so triggered by your three-nagers meltdowns, and you are unphased by your husbands fantasy football obsession.
September is like that for me. I don’t just think about writing, I write. I don’t just think about teaching yoga, I do it. Less thinking, more doing. It means I have to do the thing anyway even when I don’t feel ready (I never feel ready!), when I’m unmotivated (daily), when I’m distracted, buried in mom life stuff, dying to procrastinate. I feel all those things all the time and still do the thing.
Because we are smart humans. We know the levers we need to pull to live our best lives.
Most of the time, we just don’t do it.
Because, at first, it’s uncomfortable, awkward, clumsy. We look and feel like idiots. We don’t have a rhythm or strategy. It’s haphazard and inconsistent. We’re never in the mood and there are always (always!) a thousand things we think we should be doing other than the thing.
It takes time to settle, to focus on one thing for an extended period of time.
And we have to be willing to slog through it a bit. To not be an A student from the gate. To be a beginner. To be open and empty and ready to sharpen our craft. Our thing.
Motherhood doesn't allow for long stretches of uninterrupted time. It’s stop/start. You'll be cruising along, finally finding a rhythm and then there’s a no school Monday, a week off for Thanksgiving (is this really necessary?), a bazillion days off for Christmas. Stop/start. Rinse and repeat. 365/24/7.
It’ll feel like it’s a lost cause, like you’ll never get back to where you were, like the whole world has zoomed past you already so why bother.
Because it matters. My life, and yours, actually depends on it.
The end game means nothing. You don’t have to know where your “little blogging hobby” is going or if you’ll ever develop your teaching into more than just a few classes a week. Doesn't matter. It’s the doing. The little bits every day that you fight for. When you think big picture it paralyzes you. You freeze and do nothing. Think teeny tiny. What’s the one itty bitty thing you can do today to move the needle? If you do, if you act, trust me, weird stuff will start to happen.
You’ll read an extra book to your kid at bedtime (even that long one you hate). You’ll get up earlier to exercise. You’ll have spontaneous sex with your other half (yes, that’s still a thing). You will be lit up from the inside out.
So grab September by the horns. One small thing, every day. No grand gestures. One brick at a time builds the bridge.
Today, these words are my brick. Who (if anyone?) reads them doesn't matter. What matters is that I acted on my thing. I brought what was on the inside out. I know no surer way to happiness than the simple act of doing what your heart calls you to.
Here’s to tomorrow’s brick. And the next. And the next. I’m rooting for us, always.