My personality is more like the Energizer Bunny, so signs to stop working, moving and shaking, and cease and desist from busy-ness are often ignored.
These past few weeks, we’ve been focusing on balance, and release. These words from on high have nudged my soul. But not enough to cause me to stop the insane merry-go-round of activity that is my current life.
So, in the infinite wisdom that is greater than my own ill-advised but seemingly good intentions, I was sucker punched by the universe.
No “to-do” list is more powerful than a knockout bout with an upper respiratory infection.
It started on Sunday, when waking up felt like emerging from quicksand. But I had a plane to catch! I stared at the check-in screen, as I have many times before, and couldn’t for the life of me find my record locator. Like a child in kindergarten, I gazed at the American Airlines representative, handed over my license and said, “Please help.”
She did, thankfully. Probably wondering if I’d had a few drinks to pre-game my flight.
I still didn’t catch on that I was sick, though.
I don’t have time to be sick! I have BIG meetings over the next two days, a calendar project that is on deadline, a mom in assisted living who depends on me, and godknowswhatelse.
When I arrived at Kamp Kantor (how I refer to the the lovely home away from home when in town for work meetings), my benefactors Renee and Steve took one look at me and said, “Go to bed.”
Too feeble to argue, I did.
And awoke, feeling as if hit by a dump truck of sick.
Since the soundtrack that usually plays in my head when faced with obstacles is Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” I proceeded. Armed with a bag of Ricola cough drops and a boatload of resolve, I plowed through day one of meetings.
And promptly returned to Kamp Kantor to collapse.
The benevolent couple changed my flight to ensure that after Tuesday’s meetings, I’d go directly home.
The joy of working from home is that working sick means you won’t infect anyone else.
The challenge of working from home is that, when you should take a sick day, you still work.
Until you simply can’t anymore.
By Friday, I couldn’t ignore this nasty bug any longer. There I sat in the doctor’s waiting room for almost TWO HOURS for them to spend five minutes to prescribe me the antibiotic I needed.
Friday…Saturday…Sunday…all spent horizontal, binge-watching Downton Abbey.
It was bliss.
If not sucker-punched by sickness, I’d NEVER have taken the time to stop and simply rest.
And you know what was remarkable?
The world didn’t end. My mom was fine without me. Mark ate meals I didn’t cook. No crucial deadlines were missed. And I got to sob through the final season of Downton. Better late than never.
If you are getting signs to “stop” and instead, you keep going? You may be asking for Universe-induced break.
When it comes, enjoy it.
Now about this word RELEASE, have you ever considered changing the channel? There’s a big difference between giving up…and letting go:
To our awakenings! (And our sleepings, too.)