Imperfect But Important

So I got my second Moderna vaccine shot on Saturday (whoop whoop! 🎉 ). 

Now, I have an admission to make. 

I got a little cocky.
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I left my vaccine appointment and went directly to the outdoor nursery, picked up several flats of ground cover plants, and made plans to spend my sunny Sunday digging in the ground.

I hadn’t had any side-effects other than a sore arm from the first shot and I’ve spent the last five months in, you know, freaking radiation treatment, so I kind of went in with the attitude of “well, what could this little vaccine possibly hit me with that I haven’t worked through or played through already this year?”
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Ummm…
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Let’s just say, I got real humbled, real fast.

Let’s also just say that I did not, indeed, plant a damn thing on Sunday.

Or get laundry done. Or finish my podcast episode. Or work on my novel. 

Or do anything but sleep, sleep, and then sleep some more. 

(Until Justin made tacos…because I will crawl through fire for tacos…fever or not, I am up for tacos.)
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Now it’s Wednesday, and frankly, I haven’t quite found my footing.

I’m a day late with this post. 

I haven’t finished the podcast.

I have barely scratched the surface of my to-do list.

Oh, and I have several flats of ground cover plants that are now side-eying me every time I go to check the mail.

Also— did you know taxes are due next week? I didn’t. I totally forgot about that.
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And you know what I’m planning to do with the afternoon ahead of me?

The one full of to-do items but no actual scheduled commitments? 

Drive to the river. Sit there. Look around.
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I’m going to bring my notebooks and pens and even my laptop and goal zero (battery plug-in thingy that gives me like 6 hours of juice for the laptop off-grid).

I have work to do.
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But I need to get the hell out of my office.

I need to hear the birds and the trees and watch water float by unconcerned with my small life. 

I need to connect to rhythms in the kind of silence that if full to the brim with life living out its cycles.
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There are a lot of moments that can look different than our defaults if we stop long enough to notice.

My work has to get done, but, at least for today, it doesn’t necessarily matter where I do it. 

It likely means that dinner will be leftovers. 

That the laundry will still not be done and the plants still not planted.

It’s not the easiest or most convenient way to go about things.

There’s some hassle involved.

There’s a chance I’ll end up working late tonight.

But it gets me where I need to be in order to be, well…okay.
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What do you need to be okay?

What might be worth a little hassle? 

Where is there space— maybe not obvious space, but space nonetheless— to take a minute? To take what you need?
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Rivers and birds and solitude are what fill my tank.

What fills yours?​
If you’re not sure, make the effort to figure it out.​
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There is a difference between numbing (zoning out in front of a screen that you’re not really interested in or drinking ’to take the edge off’ or shopping or whatever your numbing of choice is…we all have at least one) and actually filling yourself back up.

Know what that difference is.

Get curious about your habits.

Don’t waste time judging whatever numbing you find— again, we all do it…whatever…it’s fine…just know that it’s what’s happening so you can be empowered to make your choices.
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Figure out what fills you up and then figure out how to get some of it in your life.

Not perfectly. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

If this were my perfect fill-up day, I guarantee that my laptop would not be joining me riverside (hi there, flyrod, I’ve missed you!).

But this imperfect day is what keeps me from running on empty.

It’s what keeps me in the game.

It’s what keeps me okay.
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I know it’s not sexy.

I know we’d all love permission to throw off our responsibilities and let the pieces fall where they may.

But sometimes that’s not possible to do (or at least not with consequences we’re willing to accept).

Stop waiting for things to be perfect.

Life is messy. That’s okay.​
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Look for the small ways to add fuel to your tank.

Can you take your lunch break in the sunshine?

Can you turn the volume up on your jam during your shower.

Can you treat yourself to a colorful bouquet at the grocery store (or treat someone you love and savor the feelings of connection and appreciation)?

Can you take five minutes to sit on the from steps with your coffee or watch your sleeping child or skip rope?

Add fuel, in some way, shape, or form, every day.​
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If you’re not sure how to do that, schedule a Say The Word one-on-one session with me and we’ll figure it out together. 

Or join us May 22 for the retreat, where we’ll spend a few hours together in lively discussion and laughter and work and community looking at our year so far! 

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You aren’t alone. It’s okay if things aren’t perfect.

Take a minute today to give yourself whatever you can.

It matters. 

Keep going.

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​Stay curious out there, my friend.