This morning, I woke up to find this message in my inbox and scoffed out loud:
WHO in the world would miss what I have to write?
And when in the world did I classify myself "a writer" anyway?!
I went about my morning without turning on the TV and do you know what I accidentally found myself doing? Writing!
I had a list of six "impossible things" on my to-do list this weekend. As of last night, I had done all of nothing on my list. I woke up this morning knowing I would hate myself even more, if I didn't do at least one of those onerous tasks.
The weight of doing nothing had me crawling on the ground (more like lying on the couch) and feeling angry with myself.
So today, I thought I would just sit still and do "just one thing".
I wrote up my daycare newsletter. Then I submitted another batch of columns. After that, I advertised to see if I could find someone who wants or would haul away what-I-consider-to-be-garbage.
Life is feeling so heavy right now and I know it is my own fault.
I haven't been writing because I don't like the sound of my own thoughts. Then I woke up to this message and realized I the person who is missing the "blessing" of my writing the most is ME.
It is Thanksgiving today and I have not sat still and focused on gratitude. I have shifted my energy into trying to pick myself up from under all that I am NOT doing.
There is a blessing within each of the tasks that I have been putting off:
A daycare newsletter to write, means I have an audience (my daycare families) who actually want to see and read what I have to say about their children's days spent at my daycare.
A deadline of columns to submit, means I have editors who believe what I have to write is worth sharing with their readers.
The fact that I have what I consider to be garbage, which may have some value to someone else, means I have too much.
I have a garage to clean, which means not only do I have a house to live in but I have a garage to shelter the car which I am fortunate to have. And I also have an excessive amount of "stuff" stored within the four walls of that garage.
The unfinished painting jobs I have been putting off means I have the privilege of owning a home.
The fact that I still have the mess of cleaning up after the installation of a new basement window and window well, means I have the means to maintain our home.
All I need is energy, enthusiasm and ambition. None of which costs a penny.
I am rich in everything which is important yet I seem to be poor at appreciating that which I have.
These are not the thoughts of a writer who is celebrating Thanksgiving.
These are the thoughts of someone who has more than they need and have forgotten how to be grateful for the small blessings which mark each and every day.
Is it possible to have too much? I believe that to be true. My burden is carrying more than I can appreciate. Material "stuff" is weighing me down.
I am grateful for the blessing of abundance. Now I must find a way to go out and spread it around so I don't have to carry it alone.