I intended to write about how to cut down the weeds that keep us from a better creative life (see #0022). But it’s been a doozy of a week.
If you don’t have time to read the rest of this post, that’s okay. Self-compassion, right?
Instead of complaining about all that didn’t go as planned, I’d like to share some of the self-compassionate steps I took after three, no, four, no… six? of the things that went sideways.
Self-compassion rejects rejection.
Wait! In trying to recall the moments of self-compassion, I began recounting all the wreckage. No, no, no.
Now I only have 30 minutes to complete this draft before picking up my son from a trivia night. It’s Saturday, and I’ve posted every Sunday here since October. A nice streak (envision me taking a bow). Even if I push back posting a few days, next week is looming, er, looking busy.
The call for submissions for the teen issue of Inlandia: A Literary Journey closed Thursday at midnight. In case you didn’t know, I’m the managing editor of the online journal, which means I’ve got lots to do before the issue launches the weekend of May 18–19. Herding teens is somewhat similar to herding cats. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite fond of both.
Plus I still need to rearrange several appointments in hopes of delivery and installation next week of a new new (intentional repetition) electric range to replace the old, nonfunctioning gas one. And all the rest of living life. Take a look at your own to-do list as an example.
Though I didn’t intend to demonstrate self-compassion by stopping this post short, I need to go fetch the kiddo.
Next time: Maybe cutting down those weeds? Or not?
Love that end! ❤️😂