What if I don't ...
...turn on the TV? ...get stressed by this or that? ...(over-)prepare like a maniac? ...respond right away?
It's scarier to test the not doing version of something, especially when the doing version is your go-to-default that's served you seemingly well your whole life. The not doing can feel just as scary as that scoot that launches your bathing suit clad body down the giant slide at the waterpark. Presses 'send' on the email or application. Steps into the bosses office for a tough conversation. Leans in for that first kiss.
The doing can be scary. But you end up doing it. The default always seems to be do. But not doing, it's harder to test that boundary. It's restraint and faith, all mixed up in one.
Tonight I chose to not turn on the TV. And to not do one more thing. But I did choose to carve a few extra minutes out for this note, because the idea of sitting to write has felt like a salve all day.
And, it's been a day. The thing that house-building has been teaching me most right now is how I tend to respond to every thing that pops up as an emergency. In some cases (although we are not talking life or death here) there are decisions that need to be corrected or made ASAP, and things that come up that should be done right away. Maybe not for the moment, but because I am keeping my eyes on the prize of a December 15th move in data. It feels like doing everything I can at every possible moment is the insurance policy that gets us in the door on time. But, what is it like to test the other side of that coin? What does it mean to take things as they come? To not rush? To not be sent into a tail-spin when I find out our antique doors are delayed because of hinges and sizing and other things that maybe some other people were actually supposed to be taking care of a few weeks ago. (That last part was more of a rant than anything helpful, but maybe I needed to get it off my chest.) So, what I am saying is - house building is giving me this experiment. To see if everything turns out okay and we get an occupancy permit and move in when we plan to. Or to see if we don't. I could keep on hitting my head against the wall of EVERYTHING IS AN EMERGENCY, or I could choose to stop. I could choose to stop the triage. I could choose to give everything time to sort itself out. I can choose to trust that everything will be okay if I don't attend to it right now, even though it feels like it's calling my name like a small child trapped in a well.
That's it. Over and out. Less doing. Bye.
A bit more to read HERE, plus a very timely archive quote.