I've had this kind of crazy recurring dream that I've been living in an action movie. Probably because the last few months of my life have been a hilarious montage of too much wine and a lot of brunch dates with my gal pals with a healthy --erm-- decent-- dose of sculpt classes in between. But as we all know, every movie has the roller-coaster of emotions that comes from too much bliss-- (sorry it's the Capricorn in me).
You know when you're going fast on a bike (or accidentally hydroplane) and you hit a big puddle and slow-motion slow-down--as in every other molecule in your body is still going super fast but your tires and sweet purple mountain bike decide they're going to take a chill pill underneath you?
Well my involuntary slow-down was when my girlfriends asked me how many jobs I actually have.
Kind of comical-- for most people the answer is like: 1 "real" job (a typical 9-5) and maybe 1 side job for shoe money or something leisurely. But I some how answered the question with not one, not two, but six. Yes. Six.
What in the...?
I know right???
*What comes after hitting the puddle is the inevitable reality of motion and the laws of gravity reminding you what's up ala pavement.*
I kind of panicked. Counting each role out loud made me think of all the commitments I'd made-- like I'd planned my senior semester all over again but just doubled my load for no reason whatsoever. Remember that chaos? Registering for EVERYTHING so you got in and then only showing up on day 1 to see if you hated the syllabus, the teacher or had a friend you could stick it out with? No? Just me? Oh okay.
WHY DO I WORK SO MUCH??? Am I a workaholic? I met with this total babe from a PR agency last week and I was embarrassed when telling her about myself because I sound like I can't commit to anything since I commit to everything.
I frequently tell my friend Sarah to slow down-- just because you can do everything doesn't mean you have to. I think the momentum of moving + the new year + my Saturn return had me juggling so many knives, that once I stopped to think about what I was actually doing, I realized how dangerous it is to myself to juggle knives (literally --but in this case figuratively because what psychopath juggles knives?)
Something about turning 27 has really set me on a path of serious self-love. I don't think I would have given myself a break before because of 'youth' and 'the grind' and 'hustling'-- all words I'm so over right now [serious valley girl tone there] because at the end of the day, even if your resume has a bazillion things on it, you're still juggling knives.
I decided to make moves toward cutting back on my commitments in favor of committing more wholeheartedly to the ones that will help enrich my spirit, not just my resume.
Besides managing your workaholic-ism, how do you practice self-love?
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