Has your kitchen ever looked like this?
This was our kitchen two years ago. A blizzard was moving in with ice pelting the side of the house as I sprinted around that kitchen trying to finish off baking. I needed to get a Christmas box packed and delivered to the UPS terminal before the roads got any worse that day. Luckily, I made it without any mishaps on the road.
I’m back in the race again this month, only this year I added in several freelance assignments that have to be handed in by December 20th, travel to NW Iowa for a book signing on the 18th, moved up a writer’s group holiday gathering for the 11th, and volunteered to help with an additional holiday celebration on the 12th. I don’t have all of my shopping done yet either.
So last week while I was box diving, the name I have for the activity where I paw through rickety, bent-up boxes containing all sorts of saved shrapnel in the form of old letters, photograph albums, and corsage corpses, I turned up an envelope aged to the color of weak tea. Its postmark said: Lake Park, Iowa, November 17, 1976. It cost my mother thirteen cents to mail it.
Evidently I was dealing with headaches at the time. I don’t recall them but the opening paragraph in her letter reads like this:
I think part of your headaches might be caused by frustration because you always have so much lined up for yourself to do and if it doesn’t get done, it bothers you. I wish that you would ease up on yourself. Take it from me–it just isn’t worth it in the long run. Just take care of your health and do what you can get done and forget about the rest. We are all going to leave this world with something left undone!
Reading that bit of advice from my mother smacks of synchronicity in light of the approaching hoard of activity. The trick is to weave. It helps to have a laptop sitting on the kitchen table. While I’m waiting for a pan of something to bake, I can be drafting from my materials spread around me. I think my mother would be proud to know I’ve learned to avoid that fretting part that probably gave me those headaches a long time ago, and just get on with the weaving part.
I didn’t turn down the writing jobs because I didn’t want to miss out on any opportunities or income.
I didn’t shy away from throwing a party last week because I treasure time with friends that I don’t see very often.
I hired someone else to dust and clean the house while I enjoyed working on the article assignments and baking delicious, fun things for my guests.
And there isn’t even a glimmer of a headache in sight. Weaving is a good thing.