"How do you know when you're stressed?" Marianna
asked this in her most recent giveaway (g’ahead, click and enter, it's open
until May 19).
It turns out that my answer is I don't.
It's been pretty obvious — even to me — that things have
been very busy for a long time around here. My level of activity was already
fairly up there and then the book came out. Which lead to a blog tour - exciting, fun and wonderful, but also a fair amount of work. There was
getting the manuscript ready for the paperback version, the opportunity to
write for CreakyJoints — also exciting and wonderful — planning for May’s
Arthritis Awareness Month on RAHealthCentral, exciting and interesting planning
going on at Show Us Your Hands!, several community projects that were also very
interesting, I started writing Book Two in the Your Life with RA series and I
could go on. Won't, though. It's stressing me out just to think about it again.
Suffice it to say that it all became just a series of tasks that had to be
done, instead of projects that gave me joy.
It's funny how when the stress reaches a certain level,
you don't notice it's there. Well, you notice that your life has become pretty
miserable, but you don't associate it with burning through your energy at the
speed of light. All I knew was that I woke up tired every day and by the time
the day was over, I was so exhausted I wouldn’t as much fall as plummet into
sleep. The biweekly B12 shots that used to turn me into an energizer bunny only
enabled me to maintain, pain levels were increasing to the point that my right
shoulder was starting to show signs of the kind of flare that would bench me
for weeks. I have plans to take some time off in August and was making jokes
about "if I make it that far," only it wasn't really a joke.
Everything felt urgent, every day I was convinced that if I didn't get my work
done, the world would end. And worst of all, although I was doing a lot of
writing, I wasn't having fun. In fact, I was downright crabby. And still,
somehow, I didn't clue in.
Thankfully, others noticed.
A week ago, I was having a chat with RA Guy about something
else entirely. Before I knew it, it had turned into a very loving, gentle and
effective smack upside the head. My head, to be specific. He reminded me that
there is no rush with producing the next book. That in fact I haven't taken
time to really enjoy having a book.
Let me rephrase that: Having! A! Book! Here I
am, my lifelong dream has been realized and I'm too busy to appreciate it. Too
busy to let it bloom. Too busy focusing on what happens next to pay attention to what's
happening in the present. And in the process, I was being pummeled by my self-induced
pace.
I just finished David Sedaris’ latest book
and something he
mentioned in one of the essays stuck in my head. Someone had been to a seminar
on becoming successful, during which the participants were asked to imagine a
stove with four burners, representing family, friends, health and work. They
were then told that in order to be successful at any one of these aspects in life, you have to turn off one of the others.
In order to be very successful, you have to turn off two. That’s fairly
thought-provoking.
In the last year or two, as my work load has increased, I’ve
turned off the friend burner. Not entirely — perhaps it's more accurate to say
that I turned it down — but there's only so much of me to go around. Blessedly,
many of my friends have been in the same situation, so the shrinking of the
friend space wasn't always only on my end. Sometimes it was, though. More recently, I seem to have turned
off the health burner. And that's very definitely a no-no when you have RA. In
retrospect, I wonder if my months-long simmering flare might be connected to
this.
As Eduardo was talking, I started crying. Not out of
frustration or hurt feelings, but from relief. With every word he said, it was
like he removed another set of blinders from my eyes and I could see the
insanity that my life had become. I could see how far from grounded I was and
how far I'd come from honouring the gift of my second go at life. Sure, busy is
good. But the kind of busy that stops you from feeling joy? That's not the point
of living, is it?
There is no rush. This is my journey, not someone else's. It
is up to me to make it something uniquely mine, something that respects and
reflects all of who I am, not just the part that thinks I'm invincible.
So I've stepped away from writing Book Two. It needs to
percolate some more and I need to rediscover writing for the joy of it. I need
to create some mental space to think, to reconnect with my friends, with who I
am and what I believe. To remember that yes, the work is important, but I can't
lose the other things that make my life joyful in the process.
A week ago, a good friend gave me the gift of perspective.
And I'm grateful.
I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.
