I am also in the process of learning to let go and flow. Much like you, I was a straight A, president of the National Honor Society, tennis playing over-achiever in High School, but as I've gotten older (discovering mindfulness and yoga really helped), I've definitely learned some hard lessons on the importance of setting boundaries and creating a life that is spiritually and emotionally sustainable. I burned out hard in my first public teaching attempt after graduating from college, not completing my contract for mental health reasons, so I am proud to be in my 8th year in my current position with a pretty good work/life balance although I know there's still room to grow. Failure is definitely a powerful teacher.
I did high school the same way you did, and I arrived at college in the same state. I am so proud of my daughter, who in her high school years made high school me look like a slacker. She went to a university strong on hustle culture, but she's stepped off that treadmill and is making a life with deep meaning and far more balance than I ever achieved. We often say that we want our children to do better than we have; I think mine is.
Luscious! Reading along (I've done that CPR class back in the day, no bells, no whistles, just pushing and breathing like someone's life depended on it into a floppy dummy; Annie was her name : ) Then, came to the part where you heard Andy Gibbs 1977 hit song showing up in that moment of fate: "Staying Alive" ringing in your ears; your strength pumping with the disco beat - wasn't sure if I was laughing or starting to cry.
What I am certain about, if we ever face that moment, leaning over someone's chest - that song will carry the message of our hearts better than any number!
Yes, as a recovering "hustler" (would President of the Presidents Club in HS ring a bell?) ... I googled Liz Gilbert's poem, "Simple" without success - could you share a link? TYSM for a Sunday morning "church-moment."
I will keep the "hustle and flow" concept in my mind as I approach this week. I feel the need to push hard but also feel and equally strong fatigue or resistance. Still sorting through it. However, this piece also reminded me of the time I took my first CPR course as a reporter for the Gloucester Daily Times back in the late 70s.
The dummy did not light up but, since I would be writing about the experience, I was extra nervous about getting it right. One afternoon, after picking my son up from daycare, I grabbed the largest stuffed toy he owned. It was a large-ish teddy bear, about the size of a 6-12 month old baby. I practiced using my fingers to locate the right spot and then practiced counting, fully realizing that this would be nothing like working on an adult or even the CPR dummy. It just helped me review the steps.
After pumping away for a few minutes, I looked up and saw that my toddler had emptied his room of all stuffed animals and lined them up on the sofa. He grabbed a giraffe and said, "Do this one next!"
I am also in the process of learning to let go and flow. Much like you, I was a straight A, president of the National Honor Society, tennis playing over-achiever in High School, but as I've gotten older (discovering mindfulness and yoga really helped), I've definitely learned some hard lessons on the importance of setting boundaries and creating a life that is spiritually and emotionally sustainable. I burned out hard in my first public teaching attempt after graduating from college, not completing my contract for mental health reasons, so I am proud to be in my 8th year in my current position with a pretty good work/life balance although I know there's still room to grow. Failure is definitely a powerful teacher.
I did high school the same way you did, and I arrived at college in the same state. I am so proud of my daughter, who in her high school years made high school me look like a slacker. She went to a university strong on hustle culture, but she's stepped off that treadmill and is making a life with deep meaning and far more balance than I ever achieved. We often say that we want our children to do better than we have; I think mine is.
Luscious! Reading along (I've done that CPR class back in the day, no bells, no whistles, just pushing and breathing like someone's life depended on it into a floppy dummy; Annie was her name : ) Then, came to the part where you heard Andy Gibbs 1977 hit song showing up in that moment of fate: "Staying Alive" ringing in your ears; your strength pumping with the disco beat - wasn't sure if I was laughing or starting to cry.
What I am certain about, if we ever face that moment, leaning over someone's chest - that song will carry the message of our hearts better than any number!
Yes, as a recovering "hustler" (would President of the Presidents Club in HS ring a bell?) ... I googled Liz Gilbert's poem, "Simple" without success - could you share a link? TYSM for a Sunday morning "church-moment."
"enter now this wild wood and view the haunts of nature"
Loved this one (and I listened to the audio for the first time!).
I will keep the "hustle and flow" concept in my mind as I approach this week. I feel the need to push hard but also feel and equally strong fatigue or resistance. Still sorting through it. However, this piece also reminded me of the time I took my first CPR course as a reporter for the Gloucester Daily Times back in the late 70s.
The dummy did not light up but, since I would be writing about the experience, I was extra nervous about getting it right. One afternoon, after picking my son up from daycare, I grabbed the largest stuffed toy he owned. It was a large-ish teddy bear, about the size of a 6-12 month old baby. I practiced using my fingers to locate the right spot and then practiced counting, fully realizing that this would be nothing like working on an adult or even the CPR dummy. It just helped me review the steps.
After pumping away for a few minutes, I looked up and saw that my toddler had emptied his room of all stuffed animals and lined them up on the sofa. He grabbed a giraffe and said, "Do this one next!"
They all survived.
I love this reminder to slow down and stop hustling. My perfectionism and I thank you.