you think you have time.

The quote above is often attributed to the Buddha, but a quick google search tells me that it's more accurate to credit Jack Kornfield….so that's what I'll do. 

The best word to sum up the past few days – FRENZY. I feel as though I've been burning the candle at all possible ends since midday on Saturday. All the while, I've had a bitchy little voice in my head saying "nice vacation, eh?" I have tried to counter the anxiety with mindfulness and gratefulness…and I am really grateful. Much of my time has been taken up by freelance projects, and I am so grateful that I have those opportunities. Even so, I am my own worst task-master. 

A slight tangent, but also a related story – I went to parent/teacher conferences on Monday. Austin is an exemplary student, and some teachers even questioned why I was there. I attend b/c it's important to me to show an interest in Austin's education. Anyway, his AP English Language teacher mentioned that Austin sometimes expresses the need for a bit more time to think before he starts to write. Uhm, yeah…THAT. No matter how many times I promise (myself) to adhere to earlier deadlines, the reality is that I need a bit more time to think before I do anything creative – writing, crafting, photography. This has resulted in a lifetime of waiting until the last possible minute before completing a project. That habit smacked me around (hard) yesterday. 

I realize that the Buddha/Kornfield quote is intended to have a deeper meaning – but in the past few days, it has been a very literal truth for me. As I went to 3 craft stores (one of the twice), 3 grocery markets, the photo shop, the wine/cheese store, and the liquor store, I kept saying to myself "It's OKAY, you're off….you have time." I never could quite manage to calm myself completely (yes, I got a latte, and yes, I counted breaths…neither was 100% effective). It seemed that the harder I tried to calm down, the more distraught I became…which resulted in any "ugly cry" session over wine & sushi. 

So. Thanksgiving will arrive tomorrow, and time will not expand to accommodate all of the things that I'd like to do. There will be no centerpiece (nor any flowers b/c I simply couldn't add 'florist' to yesterday's stops). The kitchen floor will not sparkle. The mudroom will continue to look like a war zone. But. There will be food…and wine…and (weather willing) family. And my hope is that for just a moment, time will stand still.