Tangled Up In Me

by | Aug 29, 2013

I never have to be reminded that my routine and work habits balance on the head of a pin. On one side there’s the total control I have, knowing the status of every chore and obligation I am committed to, this – without the help of Post-it notes or electronic devices. On the other there’s the mayhem about which I spend so much time in denial. I think I’m organized, and then one day, without warning, I unravel.

I’m normally even-keeled when the overload light comes on. I laugh at it. I can roll with it. I can rearrange deadlines and my days so that everything that needs to happen happens, and on cue. I can even live with denial. This week, I hit the wall.

Along with my daily responsibilities, I also have a plate of other tasks piled high and spilling over on the nice white tablecloth that doesn’t suffer stains lightly. A few days ago as I was doing intervals and getting ready for the ‘cross season, I was overcome with a sense of dread. I had written checks on my workload that the available time wouldn’t cash for me. As I was setting up for yet another sprint as well as trying to talk myself off a ledge, my own voice was saying, “Okay. I am fucking sick of practice. I’m ready for the game.”

The words echoing were not about the on-the-bicycle efforts I was entrenched in. They were about the daily practice of simply accepting the role I have and play. The reference to practice is about how all of this (all of this in air quotes…) grounds me and allows me to realize that there really is no other side to get to. This here, is all there is. At least for now.

There are precious few things that remind me of the larger view and that my list is comprised only of items I choose to allow in my life. And that I can’t escape blame for what I have because I am the gatekeeper here. The most precious of these isn’t a thing at all, it’s The Lovely Deb.

TLD has a special way of going into Yang mode, especially when this Yin needs it most. Today she took me to Tanglewood to hear BSO’s last weekend of performances. We spent the afternoon on the lawn, picnicking, imbibing, and listening to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. And for several hours of my self-important, overbooked, self-absorbed life, Deb helped me forget about everything, find balance, and just be.