I have been living pretty non-stop for the last several months. I have created a rich and full existence, a life that I could never have imagined for myself when I was 25, living in a city that wasn’t me, doing work that wasn’t me. Quite honestly, I don’t even think I knew what being me meant.
Before the Memorial Day weekend, I realized that I hadn’t been making time for me so I purposely decided to make this weekend “Me Time.” Excited by this notion I began to write in my journal, brainstorming a list of things I haven’t done in ages like seeing a movie or going for a walk on the beach or reading a book cover to cover for pleasure. Anything that sounded like a way to indulge myself went on the list but something was being stirred up because as I wrote, this phrase unexpectedly came creeping into my mind and out of the end of my pen.
I am missing myself.
As I continued to write and the next phrase that came was
I crave simplicity.
I drew this small circle in the center of the page with the word me inside. Then I began to write down all of the commitments I have made, all of the deadlines to meet, all of the goals to work toward, all of the workshops that I have moved by, all of the dreams to explore, all of the important relationships to nurture, all of the individual parts that make up me, today, in this moment. I was stunned by the sheer volume, by the density, by the intensity of my life. It became clear why I crave simplicity,
simplicity that means:
sleeping when my body is tired
drinking a mug of something warm
choosing to watch a sappy romantic comedy instead of reading something deep and meaningful
doing the leg work to feel prepared
being in the glorious, unglamorous moment
remembering to breathe
noticing how the silence is filled with the sounds of the wind rustling leaves and chimes
slowly eating and enjoying exactly what my body wants
realizing that there is a time and place for absolutely everything and I don’t have to do it all right now
taking the time to put pen to paper and just write.