Friday afternoon I was irritable with my colleague, and she happens to be the best teammate I've ever had at work. I was angry with myself for being unpleasant, but I was more angry for not being me. For a while I stewed over it: what was wrong with me? Then I realized what it was.
Like a bolt out of the blue, it came to me: I was resisting giving up the last vestiges of my integrity. The resistance--the fight to maintain who I know myself to be in my heart--had weakened me. Over the last couple of years, slowly I've carved away almost every part of me that I've felt to be right and true. Those who have read this blog for a while will know that I have struggled with eating sugar and a host of desires that sugar triggers. I have grappled with gradually carving exercise from my life. I have fought for time and energy to write...this blog and other things. I have strained to figure out how I could do all the work expected of me and still work a reasonable number of hours. All of these are things I know to be for me: they are important to my health, my life, and my integrity--who I know I am...in my heart.
So it is that yesterday, I sat at my desk in near tears trying to figure out how I could do 30 hours worth of work in the four hours that were left. Well, that isn't quite right: I'd been off the clock for nine or ten hours by then, but it was still the normal work day. "I am killing myself!" I thought. Just as surely as if I were to pull out a gun, the way I've abused my body, mind, and spirit is killing me.
Although I should have done so, I didn't bring work home this weekend. I have no idea how I will get everything done that I need to do for next week but, as the afore-referenced colleague has said, we've grown accustomed to almost no preparation for the string of events which we orchestrate. Somehow, I am sure I will figure this out...or I won't, but something must change. I need the rest. I need renewal. I need time to heal. I need my creativity.
A funny thought drifted into my mind. Over 20 years ago, I was having a session with a cranial-sacral therapist. I am not sure exactly what that is. The practitioner held my head in his hands and, for lack of a better term, rotated it gently for an hour or so. I had struggled for several years with pain following an accident. The total relaxation that I experienced in the "treatment" eased my discomfort.
One day at the end of the session, he said to me, "You have self-trust issues."
As much as I could do so in the state of total relaxation, I wriggled my face and wrinkled my brow a little. I thought he was nuts. Yesterday, I knew he was right. I couldn't trust myself: I couldn't trust myself to do what I know I need. Admitting this part should change things, right? Just stop all those self-destructive behaviors in which I've been engaging.
I've actually drawn a line in the sand several times. I would work these crazy hours until a long-promised new team member arrives. That was a process that started last October...almost a year ago. We've heard a number of dates when the person was supposed to be here: March, May, June, July, August, September. Two days ago the date we were told it will be October 6. With each new date, I took a deep breath and put my nose down to continue for just a month or two more. I've committed to some clients through the end of September, but I will not do this any more.
In the meantime, I am going to start taking those exercise lunches that have fallen away. Tomorrow I will dispose of the "healthy junk food," which has slipped into my kitchen. I commit to writing this blog more regularly and resuming regular attendance at dance events at least once a week. These small steps won't reverse the damage, but at least they will stem the losses and provide me with some resilience.
Hopefully, they will help me begin to restore my trust in me and my integrity, so that I will start to like the person I see in the mirror in the morning. I want to be a person who can be trusted, and if I can't trust myself to do what is right for me, then who else can trust me?
As with every intention, bringing it to life comes in the magnitude of thousands of small choices moving toward what we choose. Do what I need to do in this moment. Then, in the next moment, do what I need to do again. But, to do that I must be conscious--I must be awake, and this work addiction has lulled me back to that place, which the Upanishads calls "the sleeping place that men call waking."
That's all there is to it: stay awake. Of course, the Upanishads were written between 800 and 400 BC! This is a battle that humankind has been fighting for a very long time, apparently with limited success. I won't worry about that. I am confident that I will not change the course of human history by going to exercise classes and dances, cleaning out my junk food, and writing this blog. I don't need to change the course of human history. I just need to change my life...in this moment...and the next...and the next.
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