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Articles, How-To's and Interviews -
Spirit and Spa
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Written by Julie Clark Robinson
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"One hundred years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, how big my house was, or what kind of car I drove. But the world may be a little better, because I was important in the life of a child."
--Forest Witcraft
I had been feeling something ugly brewing for days – probably weeks – if I'm to be honest. And by ugly, I don't mean the brownish/grayish sunken circles under my eyes, they're a given at this point. (My beloved Sephora catalog still waits for me in my reading pile. Inside, my favorite, miracle worker concealer, awaits my order.) This particular kind of ugliness starts in the pit of your stomach and ends up as a worried furrow on your brow, exposing every forehead wrinkle you've ever had. Finally, as I hurriedly pulled the not-so-clean sheets over my bed and mentally went over all the things I unrealistically hoped to accomplish that day, the ugliness spewed out into a sentence that alarmed me – and finally brought some clarity.
"I'm just too involved with my family."
I stopped tugging at the sheets and realized the absurdity of that
particular combination of words. "Too involved"…"with family". Always
one to be thrilled with creating an oxymoron, this one just seemed sad
to me. Is helping my children get ready for their first day of
elementary school too involved? Is coaching my daughter’s first
cheerleading squad and doing a nightly load of grass-stained clothes
from my son's football practice too involved? (Note to self, remember
to buy stock in Gatorade. And Spray 'n Wash.) Is finally living up to
the promise of a walk to the world's most patient Black Lab too
involved? And my husband doesn't even ask for any of my time at this
point, he recognizes the bunched-up forehead and is steering clear.
Too involved? Surely not. But if I continue to beat myself up over
the fact that I have a column to deliver, a database to create, a new
book concept to put down on paper, an agent to seek and several email
replies that need to go out, the one thing in my reeling mind that
needed to go was the family. Not the people themselves, but everything
they seem to require of me.
Don't worry, I heard it. The "DING DING DING" of the danger bells
that always seem to peel at just the right moment before I go over the
edge and lose all sense of priority. In fact, at the very moment that I
realized how much more important it is, for me, to nurture this beloved
family of mine than to seek the almighty by-line, I actually smiled.
Right smack in the middle of a bedroom that needed to be dusted.
Suddenly I felt better than I had in weeks. One simple sentence
that raced through my brain had freed me, for the time being, from the
myriad of tasks that were plaguing my brain. Taking my kids for
haircuts and new sneakers isn't a task, it's a privilege.
Creating a
database and replying to emails is a task.
Sometimes we all just need a little reminder of the difference.
Action Exercise:
If you're reading this, you've already done your homework! Hopefully,
this piece put you on the path to sorting out the differences between
the privileges and the tasks in your life.
 Julie Clark Robinson is the award-winning author of Live in the Moment
(Beyond Words Publishing, Inc.). She has been published in the Cup of
Comfort book series and Family Circle, and her on-line column about
creating everyday joy is updated monthly on DivaTribe and other
motivational websites. You can contact her through www.julieclarkrobinson.com.
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