Dear Mom,

Sometimes, life gets in the way of our plans. With kids at home, this happens often. 

Last weekend, I traveled to DC, which threw off my writing schedule. When I left town, I told myself it would be OK, I could write on my plane ride home Sunday night or simply start my writing on Monday morning. I’ve crammed my writing into two days before, it’s not a terribly big ask for me to write, edit, and post my blog within that window. 

Well… my plane ride was kind of crazy. I was suffering from the effects of a migraine and the guy next to me was quite distracting with his obsessive nose blowing. I got nothing done.

Come Monday morning, the kids were both sick and had to stay home from school. My body was entirely depleted, and I felt like total garbage. Turns out traveling and time changes aren’t great for me, and I ended up using all of my energy going grocery shopping and helping the kids with the schoolwork they were missing by staying home.  

I did try at one point to write, but even a small amount of staring at my screen started to trigger my headache. Writing was not going to happen.

For a very brief moment, I worried. I stressed. I began to overreact about how and when I’d get my writing done. I know I can successfully edit Tuesday for a Wednesday deadline, but it drives me a bit crazy to leave it all to the last minute.

But then… something occurred to me. I have been telling my clients for years that they must listen to their bodies. Not feeling up to a big, planned workout? Take a day off. Didn’t sleep well the night before? Hit the snooze button. It’s more than OK to change plans. We don’t have to feel the burden of a plan we made up for ourselves.

I contemplated cancelling my blog post for the week. Or possibly even delaying it a day or two. I doubt any of the twenty or so people who read my blog regularly would mind if it posted on a different day. I don’t think anyone would care if there was no post at all for the week. 

Writing to me feels very similar to exercise. If I get out of my routine, it can feel very challenging to scrape myself off the bed and force myself back out there. If I don’t strength train for days, it becomes increasingly more difficult to lift a pair of weights. And it’s not physical. The body doesn’t lose muscle that quickly. It’s as if, after a long break, I’ve lost my mind body connection.

I believe it’s an almost identical situation with writing. 

Now, I will say that I don’t need to write every day to feel a week has been successful. There are weeks when I do write a little bit every day, but the weekends aren’t always possible. When I can, I prefer to begin my next week’s letter to you on the Saturday before. I write total garbage all weekend. Allowing my thoughts to simply spill out onto the page with no particular order. Come Monday morning, I begin with a messy 2500 words or so to sift through and edit down. Usually, by Monday evening it’s pretty much fully formed, and by Tuesday I only have to polish. It’s a routine that works well for me. It’s devoid of stress. Super easy.

It doesn’t always work out this way. Some weeks, stuff comes up and my timeframe shifts and suddenly I lose entire days of planned writing. Could this be the first week when I give myself the permission to delay?

The more I thought about it, and the more I contemplated delaying, I realized that the act of posting on Wednesday morning (or Tuesday evening if I’m being honest) is too important to my routine to delay. Part of it is this obviously irrational fear that I will stop writing my blog all together if I simply stop for one week. It doesn’t really make sense, but in a way, it makes all the sense in my mind. It’s my promise to myself. But within the parameters of my weekly promise, I do have space for interpretation. I can shift if need be.

For this week. For this letter. I shifted by allowing myself the permission to write it last minute and simply see what happened. If nothing came of it, I’d have no choice but to postpone.

I suspected, if I was patient with myself, I could accomplish my task.

This week’s letter to you began on Tuesday morning. Start to finish. Fragmented to complete. Messy to polished. Everything happened in one day.

As you can see, the letter to you is done. It’s been uploaded on time. I did what I thought I couldn’t do. It’s not that I didn’t believe I could get it done in time, I had a feeling I’d figure it out. What surprises me about the entire situation is my ability to get it done without stress. All day long, I didn’t worry. I got the kids to school. I trained my clients. I squeezed in a great workout. I picked the kids up from school and helped them with their homework. I took Scotland to her book club and then cooked dinner. Still, I managed to write, edit, and polish a perfectly fine letter to you. I got it done. 

This whole experience has taught me a big lesson. It’s not that I can do anything I set my mind to. It’s not quite that I am a stronger writer than I thought. It’s not even that I can overcome the curveballs in life. What I’ve learned about myself this week, is that I am capable to get through change without panic. I can pivot when plans are thrown off and I can do it all in a stress free and calm environment. 

If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t think this was possible for me. I usually panic in the face of changed plans. Not so bad that I can’t push through in the end, but I normally need to be talked off the ledge by Jeremy.

It feels like I’ve finally entered a stage in life where I can now comfortably live in a space of uncertainty. I can roll with the punches. Go with the flow. And I don’t feel like those are only terms that sound good in theory. I really do feel this way. It’s strange. Feels a bit foreign still, as if I’m living in someone else’s body. But I also feel a familiarity. I feel as if it’s always been here, waiting patiently, deep within me. 

I have seemingly let go of this baggage that I’ve been carrying. The need to worry. To overthink. To wonder what if. Plans changed. I dealt with it while maintaining a sense of ease. 

It surprises me in many ways, yet I welcome this feeling. It’s reinvigorating. I feel unstoppable. Clearheaded and excited for future possibilities. I actually am looking forward to the unknown. The unplanned. The messy, complicated, disasters that are inevitable throughout life. It’s sort of refreshing. 

I’m finding that, when life throws you a curveball, you can actually learn to dodge it. It’s not always necessary to bend backwards to fit into the arc of this new path. I don’t need to push myself to get things done on my to-do list solely because I wrote a to-do list. None of it is dire. And so often it seems my items on my list are merely suggestions. They aren’t written in stone. Do I need to fill out my taxes on time? Of course. Do I need to get the kids to school on time? Of course. Do I need to renew my driver’s license and car registration and all that bureaucratic nonsense? Sure. But the rest of it? The deadlines I’ve created for myself. The laundry, the dinners, the workouts and cleanings? None of it matters in the long run. I will get to these things when I can. I will not worry when things change. I refuse to panic when I am required to adapt. 

In fact, adaptation has the potential to be fun. Being malleable can be joyous and exciting. Living a more flexible life allows me the freedom to make mistakes and change my mind. That’s the big one. Allowing myself the space to rethink and reconsider will help my mental health exponentially. It allows me to live outside the box and to follow what feels right in the moment. 

If I had forced myself on Monday to get the work done that I had originally planned, I would have been left with an even more depleted body, an exhausted mind, and a subpar writing sample. It wouldn’t be worth it. Instead, I cut myself some slack. I allowed myself the time and space to rest. I gave myself permission to push my goal and hold off on my tasks and it paid off. With a clear head and a healthy body, I wrote this letter to you with ease. I wrote without stopping. It poured out of me naturally. I barely stressed. I barely strained. I barely edited. And, at the end of the day, not only was I ready to upload my blog, but I also felt fulfilled with leftover energy. 

Allowing myself to fail and mess up and replan and restructure and start over enables me to feel secure that I can accomplish anything. I’m kind of excited to see where else in my life I can practice this newfound sense of freedom. I can pivot without pressure. I can adapt without regret. I can potentially do anything because I’m no longer going to hold myself back with overthinking when things don’t go as planned. 

And I’ve got to say, Mom, I feel great. I feel open and connected and ready and excited.

I feel positive and it feels really good.

I love you, Mom.

Love,

Rachel