Filling the well
A common theme among my various friend groups is a state of overwhelming exhaustion. State of the uterus or left ring finger aside, we all seem to be waiting for the next season to be our knight in shining armour.
Let’s level. I’m a 29 year-old who has had a few too many drinks probably a few too many times in her life. This means I’ve felt the room spinning and prayed for it to stop. If you have not felt this you are a better human than I or are simply too proud to admit you’ve let your hair down from time-to-time.
Anyway, that’s what I’ve felt like for most of 2016. The room is spinning and I can’t will it to stop. And it’s all my fault. I make the choices to push myself and bear the weight of disappointment when I can’t reach perfection.
Climb the professional ladder.
Spend more time with your friends.
Take on more projects.
Keep the house clean so you can eat off the floors.
Then, I said enough.
I put myself in time out. Made a list of all the things that make my insanely happy: random adventures, writing, making things with my hands, reading, deep conversations with family, helping people, long drives, big ideas and spontaneity.
This year has been one bucket list of filling the well.
I start every weekday morning by talking to a friend and it’s become the very best part of each day. When friends post about a book, I read it. I took a flower class. I volunteer at church. I’ve bought art supplies and followed up with a calligraphy class. I take my personal laptop (and leave my work computer behind - this is very important) to coffee shops and write short stories and poems and childhood memories.
And the room has started spinning just a little bit slower.