"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
- John Lennon
That's how I feel a lot of my life has been. I'm a list maker, goal setter, plan prepper. The thing that all of these have in common, though, is the regret I feel when I never get it all done. I spend a lot of time (and life) thinking about how I'm going to do things instead of actually doing them. Then I look back and kick myself so hard for not doing it as perfectly as I had envisioned. The "if only" attitude I seem to have 97% of the time is sometimes all-consuming.
I have made a new year's resolution pretty much every year of my life for as long as I can remember. I even signed and laminated it one year. Last year, I think, was the first year I actually accomplished one of my goals. It became a part of my daily routine (scripture study) and I love it.
The end of last year went by so quickly and was so busy that if I thought about it, I would probably end up watching all of my Christmas movies and crying because I feel like I didn't get enough Christmas out of Christmas. (I say this because one night while I was not sleeping, something I do regularly these days, that's what it came to.) We went out of state to visit family for the week of Christmas - which was great, don't get me wrong - but pretty much all of October and November and December was consumed with lists and planning and budgeting and shopping, not to mention my church responsibilities. The holidays went by way too fast and I still haven't fully unpacked from our trip. My Christmas decorations are still gathering dust around my house.
I didn't get a solid resolution down is my point. The first of the year came and went and I still didn't have one. That's not to say I haven't been thinking about it. I've been seeing some things on social media about what other people are doing and of course, my thoughts go right to "Oh - that's a good idea... I should do that, too!" and I inevitably feel bad about not thinking of something so clever, myself, and all the years wasted not doing that very thing.
One of the things I saw a friend or two doing was coming up with a word that will be what they try to center their year around. One friend in particular's word is "joy". Joy is actually something I was after last year. I spent an awful lot of time thinking about it. I don't know that I actually accomplished anything solid, though. That's something I want for my life, though. Joy is more solid than happiness. "Comparison is the thief of joy." I do this. I compare myself. To others, to my old self... and it's a fruitless exercise.
Resolutions, I've decided, are like diets: doomed to fail. What's needed, instead, are a gradual implementation and melding of lifestyle changes.
This year and for the rest of my life, I want simplicity. I want to be rid of the things that don't bring me joy. Even the thoughts that don't bring me joy. I want more life out of life. I want to find myself. Not that I'm lost, but uncover the me that's been buried by thoughts of failure and comparison and inadequacy and more failure and clutter. Oh my gosh, the clutter. Before the tidying show came to Netflix, I have found myself really questioning the value of the "things" in my life that seem to just fill and overcome the space that is my home and my life. And yes, my mind, I would wager. Even my email is cluttered and in need of a cleanout.
I follow a blog of someone I have come to love and admire. She posted something that felt so much like she was writing down the very thoughts in my head. She talks of having a very, very busy mind and stressing about the past or future and being in a constant loop of wishes and dreads, not being in the moment. I do that. I'm fairly certain I'm on the autism spectrum or have OCD or something because I obsess. I'm compulsive. And my anxiety is through the roof because of it. I'm convinced I can't have real friends because of it. I start a lot of needless arguments amongst my family because of it. I know I lose sleep because of it. My life and my mind are a mess. A couple of years, ago, I went off of medication with the help of my doctor. I was convinced I could manage my anxiety on my own. It's all I think about because it's always there, and, again, all-consuming. I made a decision the other day that this is not the quality of life I want. I feel like I can't do other things because I'm so busy just trying to maintain, which I can't always do on my own.
My blogger also said this: "I'd like to think I'm a kind person. Kindness, after all, is a quality I value deeply in others. But if I spend, oh, say 12 out of every 24 hours tearing myself down, I have to wonder if maybe I'm not doing kindness right. ...You can't give anyone anything that you don't have. That feels true, and it reminds me how faulty it is to think kindness is a one-way street." My truth couldn't have been spoken more clearly. I constantly beat myself up. I know this is because of whatever is causing my mind's unwanted demand for perfection. I unconsciously expect it - perfection - in myself, in my family, in the people around me.
If I could take a chill pill, I would. Wait... I can. ha I'm going to talk to my doctor about going back on medication. I'm sincerely hoping and praying that it helps me do just that - chill. I want to enjoy life, not numb myself with Netflix or food because I can't handle it. I want to be in control of at least one thing - myself. I want to be able to see a mess in my home and not freak out about it because I feel like my life is spiraling out of control and I have to maintain that perfect (see, there it is again) balance. I want to see things on social media and not feel bad because I'm not just like that. I want to be ok with who I am and how I do things. I want to cease feeling this weight that seems to be holding me down, that I have to battle from the moment I wake up till the moment I finally fall asleep. I want to enjoy the rest of my life (not just this year) with no regrets. I want to be free from the brain and life clutter that overwhelms me just by looking at or thinking about it. I want to not care about what other people think. I want to stop obsessing about my mothering or my children or their futures or their health or my health or money or friends... I want to stop obsessing. Period. And dang it, I want to be able to sleep.
I want to live my best life.
And I'm not going to feel guilty because I didn't start this on January 1st.
