I'm grateful for a beautiful cup of tea.
It’s been a really full week since my return from a family visit to the prairies and, for me, sound sleep has been in short supply. Last night as we prepared for this next lovely adventure, a train trip to meet up with our dearly beloved son, I was starting to feel overwhelmed with it all. By “it all” I’m mostly meaning the list of tasks I believed I had to complete in order for “everything to be ok.” I felt my shoulders hunch up painfully and my neck and jaw get tight - and then I felt tired and unfocused and sat down with my phone (not one of the tasks on my list).
In moments like this, I realize I need to stop and look into what I need. It’s often some rest. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy over the years comparing myself to other people and coming up short in seeing my need for rest and quiet as a sign of weakness or a lack of motivation. More recently I’ve been reframing this need and honouring it as best I can as a wise signal from my body that slowing down now may prevent trouble later.
So, I looked over the landscape of the next few days and gave my regrets for a party I’d wanted to attend shortly after our train pulls back into the station tomorrow. I reminded myself that I can best show love to my family with wholehearted presence (and freshly vacuumed floors, a batch of cookies, and an organized spice shelf are totally optional). I let go of a bunch of stuff I’d arbitrarily decided had to be done before I left the house today. And I spoke up when I wanted to go back to the house 2 minutes after we left to make sure I’d turned off my bedside lamp.
Some mental habits are great thieves of joy. I celebrate the moments when I can see them and find other views and ways through. I’m breathing easier now. On the train, heading towards the apple of my eye, and grateful for a beautiful cup of tea.