Every time someone asks me what I want for myself I tumble headfirst down the rabbit hole of depression. I suppose I have spent so much of my life taking care of others that I do not even know where to start on identifying what I want. Even this short piece of writing has me wondering: No really, what would I like to be doing more of? The thought instantly depresses me because I have no idea.
I also suddenly feel so exhausted and can quite easily hop into bed despite it being quarter to eight in the morning and I have had a good night’s sleep. How do I work through this then? Perhaps I can start with what I already do:
- I see clients via zoom, and I love working with them to achieve their highest potential.
- I work from home, so really, I can set my own hours.
- I walk my rescue puppy Willow on the beach every morning for an hour, getting into nature centering and grounding myself.
- I write everyday like clockwork, a practise I have waited years for.
All of the above is exactly what I would like to be doing more of and I am. For the first part of this year (2020) I raged against the fact that I was no longer gainfully employed, that it was my responsibility to see to the cooking, cleaning and laundry while my husband went to work. Blaming all of these and him for why it was that I could not do what I wanted to do. Feeling strongly that it was because of him and these “chores” that there just was not enough time in the day to do what I wanted. When he got home from work, it was even worse because then it was all about him. Sitting in the bar for supper having a drink or two or three and then upstairs to the lounge to sit and numb out in front of the television. I no longer read as voraciously as I used to because with the TV so loud I could not concentrate, so I just gave up trying to read.
I have discovered that all the raging was so that I could hide without feeling guilty. I was so afraid of finally having all the time in the world to do exactly what I wanted to that I did not know where to begin. And it was easier to blame him and all my “responsibilities” for not getting down to the business of my soul’s purpose.
Marian Williamson said in a poem. Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. Why is it that we are so afraid?
I love crafting and at the beginning of lock down I felt the forced ‘stay at home’ unconsciously gave me the permission I could not give myself to craft. I crafted so much, and I had so many little ‘things’ I had no ideas what I was going to do with them all. I know, people are getting plenty of homemade gifts for birthdays and Christmas this year! But then life got busy being busy again as the restrictions have eased. So how do I make it easier for myself? I make space in my head by focusing on the thoughts telling me it is OK to craft; I AM good at it and the things I produce - well I love giving gifts or I could just sell those!