Setting the Pace

Something shocking occurred to me recently: I’m stressed.

That’s not actually the shocking part, because I’m always stressed in some way. I mean, we all have deadlines and bills to pay, plus there are summer events and trips to plan and the lingering dangers of COVID. No, the shocking part is that I actually stepped back from the chaos and multiple To Do lists in my head and realized it doesn’t have to be this way (cue, light bulb!)

In that moment, I realized I’m repeating an old pattern of overwork and overcommitment and I’ve gotten a little too caught up in it. I’ve done it before – and when that happens, my health starts to suffer and everyday life becomes difficult to manage. But things have changed since I left my graphic design job. In those decades, it was a schedule of important deadlines driven by clients at big companies. The outstanding realization is that I’m now the master of my own domain and schedule, which means I’m doing this to me. It’s time for a shift to regain the play and enjoyment of living again and just…breathe.

The night of my realization was on the eve of Art Walk (which I had chaired for the past 18 months.) I left my studio and rode my bike home the long, scenic way by the river. I slept in the next morning and enjoyed a second cup of coffee while phoning my mom to have a long conversation about what she was up to. The pace slowed. It felt luxurious to not have to be somewhere early and to no beat myself up about it. I worried not that another project for Art Walk would get handled but magically it did. A kind volunteer brought me some watermelon, which I love (thank you, Christy). It’s like I was having a lovely out of body experience with my own life. And it was fun!

Now I’m working on ways to incorporate balance into my life by setting the pace for myself. On long-distance rides, setting your own pace is key to lasting the journey, so it makes sense in life too. I think it starts with priorities: Painting, Outdoor fun & exercise, Friends & family, Self care, Travel. It also means learning to say no. So I look forward to passing the Art Walk baton to a new leader with a wonderful team of volunteers. They’ll handle it just fine and I’ll worry not.