For many years I’ve felt like this tree: by all accounts standing tall, with deep roots and firmly grounded.
I failed to thrive, however.
You see, strong roots are only one aspect of a healthy plant, and, by themselves, cannot guarantee that the plant will be strong enough to withstand the forces around it.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt a heavy weight on my chest, making it difficult to take a deep breath and fully expand my lungs. For too long, I’ve felt an inexplicable burden, crushing me from the inside and slowly permeating my frame, eventually resulting in physical fatigue, frustration and fear.
I felt like I had to be everything to everyone; to say ‘yes’ even if a new commitment was to my detriment. I felt as though I had to have everything under control, and to make it all look easy.
I felt stuck. Stuck in a profession that no longer brought me joy. Stuck in a cycle of constant busyness to the point that a friendly phone call in the middle of the day felt like a big inconvenience. Stuck in a facade where success and identity were inextricably linked with what we ‘do’. “So, what do you do?”… this seems like a harmless enough question, but it is loaded with much more than we care to admit. “What do you do?” quickly equates to “what impressive skills do you possess?” and eventually “how much respect is to be accorded to you?”
There comes a point, however, when we realize that what we “do” should never be tied to who we “are”. I realize that I have spent so many years “doing” that I’ve not spent much time “being”.
But now, now it’s different. Now I want more. More out of my life. More out of my relationships. More peace in my heart and passion in my days. Incidentally, I also want less. Less fear. Less frustration. Less distraction from what really matters to me.
I’ve always been a Type A person (read: Type A++). I knew what I wanted to achieve from an early age and I set out to accomplish my goals. I was living my Plan A life. Doing big things you may say. Doing my best to be ever accessible to my clients. Doing my work in as quick a time frame as possible to impress. Doing all the things my children and household needed (and, let’s be honest, never really needed me to do). Doing too much. Doing, doing, doing.
But now, it’s time to realize that Plan A hasn’t served me as well as I thought it would. It’s time for a new plan. A plan with less distraction. A plan with less busyness. A plan with less doing.
It’s time for Plan Be.