I finally got a haircut, but I haven't exercised for the better part of a week.
I'm on top of the laundry, but dust bunnies are accumulating along the baseboards.
I returned a phone call from months ago, but I still haven't finished writing the thank-you notes for all the thoughtful baby gifts that arrived back in May.
I'm getting this newsletter out to you, but my email inbox is in desperate need of triaging. (If yours is one of my as yet unanswered emails, thanks for your patience.)
In other words: Trade-offs come with the territory of being human and not machine.
This is not a failure on your part.
I repeat: This is not a failure on your part.
(Did you suspect I said that more for myself than for you? You were right. But I know there's a handful of you who need to hear this, too, so listen up.)
This is one of the Big Lessons of new parenthood for me, so far.
What if I told you it was actually impossible to keep all the plates spinning, all the time? (PHEW.)
What would change in how you approach the events and tasks that make up your life? (I would make choices more quickly, move on them, and then celebrate their completion—instead of deliberating endlessly, feeling like it's all lose-lose, and berating myself for my inaction.)
What would change inside your mind? (Mine would become a more pleasant place to hang out.)
How would you feel? (I'd feel at peace. Open to joy.)
Okay, so, here's something to chew on: Who ever said it was possible to keep all the plates spinning, all the time?
I don't know about you and your situation, but no one told me it was possible. I guess I just assumed? Which means full-fledged plate-spinning is an invention of my mind, a standard I've set, a fantasy I'm touting as reality.
Oof.
The impulse here might be to feel shame. ("Dammit, Helen, you created this untenable dynamic with yourself, for yourself. You are, quite literally, the source of your own suffering.")
But I'm resisting that entirely and I think you should, too. Because you know what this realization really means?
It means we're capable of changing the rules. After all, we're in charge around here. We're the creators of the narrative whether it's screwy and impossible and makes us feel like miserable failures...or it's wonderfully sound and leaves room for us to live life joyfully, if imperfectly.
What's a new rule we should write? Share it below.