I'm not going to go so far as to call it an epiphany. More a big ‘Oh yeah!’ moment.
I told myself when our daughter broke up from school for Easter that I would make time to write something while she was off. That I wouldn’t allow the hectic nature of the school holidays to affect my commitment to my hobbies.
But guess what? I didn’t manage it. And as her break came to an end, I realised why.
There were no gaps. We had great trips away and days out, we got the children to clubs and nursery on time so that we could work, and we kept everybody as clean and nourished as they were willing to be.
I did enough, but I couldn't do any more.
I like the holidays, the change does us good. (As does going to the beach to fly a jellyfish kite - pictured above - an activity I cannot recommend enough).
I also find the time away from our usual routine quite stressful and tiring. I’m responsible for figuring out pretty much every single thing we do, so the mental load is even bigger than usual because there isn’t a set pattern to follow. I have to make it up.
So it’s little wonder that I didn’t find space for a creative project. I did some journaling as I went to bed some nights. But I didn’t open my laptop and turn it into anything. Scrawled handwriting before I fell asleep was all I could manage.
And of course none of this is really a problem. Survival is essential, and we had lots of lovely times together too, which makes us extremely lucky.
It’s my relationship with this reality that needs work. I need to learn to accept that living within my limitations isn’t failure, it’s necessary. It’s how we all keep going without falling over.
A laundry-based ‘Oh yeah!’ also helped move this thought process along.
My daughter asked if we could go to London Zoo for the day, just the two of us. We were fortunate enough to have the time and cash to make it happen, so I had no reason not to say yes.
But I did hesitate, just for a moment, when I looked around and saw the level of washing I needed to do. We’d been away for two nights, and somehow come back with a year’s worth of laundry. I felt a real need to get on top of it, as perhaps that would make my mind feel clearer. Should I put trousers before tigers? Pants before penguins?
But then it dawned on me: You will NEVER get on top of the laundry. It cannot be done. Every second of every day, our clothes are quietly readying themselves for another turn around the drum. Unless we become nudists, there will always be clothes to wash.
So there was no point wasting time trying to win the unwinnable. Better to leave the house in search of lemurs. Those sandy socks would still be waiting for us when we get home.
Sometimes you just have to pick a priority and accept that, to do it well, you can’t do anything else right now. I couldn’t attempt domestic perfection and true parental presence all in one day. So I bid the laundry basket farewell and headed to the zoo, and we had the best day.
No, I didn’t do it all, but I gave her my all, and how could that ever make me a failure?
The older I get, the more I realise that the goal isn't to magically get my to-do list down to zero, or our socks all paired up and accounted for every second of the day.
It's to make the best use of the moment in front of me. To accept that I can't be and do everything all of the time, so what am I going to do right now? And what am I not going to do because it can wait?
But it's difficult because it's not what our brains tell us to do. Mine wants me to divide myself into multiple parts and tick all my tasks and interests off at once, somehow.
And ironically, attempting to pursue acts of self care in amongst it all can bring its own stress and sense of failure. Ahead of the holidays, well-meaning people say “Make sure you find some time for yourself!” and then when it proves impossible I think: Why didn't I manage it? Why couldn't I make space?
Life's not suddenly going to get quieter. I'm not sure I really want it to. But a quieter mind is always welcome.
When I make a decision and stick to it, and accept that other things will not be done for a bit, I find peace.
Sure, the zoo was tiring, but I also felt relaxed. Making that call to leave life admin behind and just be together was a form of rest for me. A trip to the reptile house isn't a classic path to inner peace, but I'm glad I took it.
And anyway, I can't ignore the laundry forever. So it's nice to have good memories to look back on as I fold our clothes and put them away, ready for yet another journey back to the washing machine.
Such a good point, so perfectly described. In the world of trying to do it all, and for it to all be of a perfect standard, actually giving ourselves the breathing room makes us more productive and creative in the long run. It's so hard to remember that though!