A Smack Upside the Head

"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.