A couple of months ago I learned about an upcoming project. It's related to a couple of my personal and professional interests and I was excited.
I said "Yes, I'd love to be involved!" And so I was.
In the planning stages.
In phone meetings and an in-person meeting.
And then it was getting close to the action time and I was looking at my schedule.
Obsessing on my schedule and trying to figure out how I was going to be able to fit in one more thing.
I was determined.
I wasn't sleeping well.
I wasn't writing much and pushing deadlines when I did.
I was juggling sleep and swimming/walking and writing and, of course, work. Along with the other necessary life aspects: food, laundry, gas in the car, etc.
And trying to figure out my schedule.
Then someone gave me a wake-up call. Someone I talk to weekly but I hadn't told her about the project. The very exciting, time-consuming, far away, how-do-I-add-it-in project. And I told her.
I wasn't deliberately not telling her, it just slipped totally out of my mind when I met with her.
Until last week.
Oops.
So we talked.
I thought about it.
I looked at my schedule.
And I knew that I let my excitement decide that I could do this. I want to do it and that's good. But I can't.
I was able to find a replacement and will still do some consulting. I will be there on opening night and closing night.
But I needed to back out. So I did.
Tonight I'm finding that my anxiety has disappeared. I'm more relaxed. I finished my Intensive Workshop writing assignment before the last minute and even got my feedback to other writers done.
And I'm breathing easier.
I can support the project without being in a whirlwind of impossible timelines.
Yesterday I had to let go to take care of me.
And today I know that was the best decision. .
