Woke up this morning feeling numb and blue. Don't worry, everything is fine. But in this journey of detoxing that I've been on since the New Year (detoxing from physical clutter, from mental clutter, from time clutter, from foods and thoughts that's don't serve me), I find myself feeling my feelings more. And not knowing entirely what to do with them, I find myself writing.
And reading. This morning, in one two-hour sitting, I read a book cover to cover. I was riveted. Called Chasing Daylight, it's ultimately about a 100-day project that makes my 100-day projects look like child's play. It's a last memoir about the writer's 100 day "project" -- his deep intention -- to die well and on his own terms. Still in his prime at 53 and the CEO of KPMG, the writer was told he had terminal cancer and three months to live. While he set out to write a book about dying, his incredible story is ultimately one with lessons for living... well worth the read.
Of course, spending my morning reading a book that I hadn't even yet downloaded was not on my to do list. But I got an email from my brother-in-law who had read the book yesterday, and I found myself drawn. So instead of working, I found myself curled up with a cup of tea and reading instead.
Last week, in the midst of crazy grant proposal writing, I found myself doing something entirely uncharacteristic as well. I stood up, stretched... and proceeded to take a luxurious hot bath. In college, I used to take paper-writing breaks to take a shower (in the middle of the day or night -- whenever I happened to be writing), but this was much more for productivity than indulging in leisure. Like many people, I tend to have creative and "a-ha!" thoughts in the shower, so this became an almost-ritual through my college years. And sure enough, with hot water pouring around me (at my second or third shower of the day), I'd get an epiphany that would give me the creative jolt to tie the paper together in some meaningful, thoughtful way. Yet last week's bath was not for that reason. Hunched over my computer for hours working on a grant proposal, I could feel the stress rising in my body. And while the old me yearned to hunker through until I finished, the new (or "emerging") me knew this was the perfect time for a break.
You see, I'm not behaving much like myself these days. Eight years ago, I underlined a sentence in a book that I recently picked up again once I moved to Korea. It reads: "You're either losing your mind -- or gaining your soul." In the margins, I had scribbled, "Friends asking about a mid-life crisis" and in all-caps: BRILLIANT!
There's a famous episode of Seinfeld where George spends a day doing the exact opposite of everything he would have done normally. And the gags start when this ends up making him terrifically successful in just about everything: he gets his dream job working with the NY Yankees, he asks girls out, he becomes confident and respected.
Sometimes this is what I feel like my experiments -- my own 100 day projects -- make me do. Not that I think my "old" self was so bad. It wasn't. It isn't. I'm incredibly proud of all that I've achieved.
But I started to get a nagging question: Does it have to feel this hard? Is all the stress (and self-doubt) really necessary?
As it turns out, it's not. Because right after that deliciously warm bath last week, I cranked out a pretty great proposal (if I do say so myself). But I did it without wearing myself out, and with a lit candle, fun music, and a hot mug of tea beside me. What I'm learning is that things don't have to be a trade-off (work vs fun). It can be both. And that more fun also can mean better (and more creative) work.
Alas, this new frame of mind is a journey and not a destination. And sometimes it's easy for me to get derailed. That's why I started a new photo project (those of you on Instagram already know this) called #365 pleasures. Starting last Saturday on my birthday, I began posting a "pleasure" from each day... this could be a gorgeous avocado for breakfast or silk pajamas or walking barefoot in the park near our house (it's inspired from the amazing global project, #365grateful). It's a daily reminder to step away -- to consciously and purposefully inject more joy, fun, celebration, and play into my life.
And I'm learning that by taking the time to do that, my world doesn't crash around me. Maybe my inbox is fuller than usual, but maybe zero inbox is no longer the game I want to play. There's a yearning within to play bigger -- and while I don't yet know that this means yet, I know how I'll get there. Intense self-care (I'm still sleeping over 8 hours a night), simplying life, and yes -- a healthy dose of pleasure, play, and fun.
Anyone wanna go roller skating when I'm in NYC next week?
And reading. This morning, in one two-hour sitting, I read a book cover to cover. I was riveted. Called Chasing Daylight, it's ultimately about a 100-day project that makes my 100-day projects look like child's play. It's a last memoir about the writer's 100 day "project" -- his deep intention -- to die well and on his own terms. Still in his prime at 53 and the CEO of KPMG, the writer was told he had terminal cancer and three months to live. While he set out to write a book about dying, his incredible story is ultimately one with lessons for living... well worth the read.
Of course, spending my morning reading a book that I hadn't even yet downloaded was not on my to do list. But I got an email from my brother-in-law who had read the book yesterday, and I found myself drawn. So instead of working, I found myself curled up with a cup of tea and reading instead.
Last week, in the midst of crazy grant proposal writing, I found myself doing something entirely uncharacteristic as well. I stood up, stretched... and proceeded to take a luxurious hot bath. In college, I used to take paper-writing breaks to take a shower (in the middle of the day or night -- whenever I happened to be writing), but this was much more for productivity than indulging in leisure. Like many people, I tend to have creative and "a-ha!" thoughts in the shower, so this became an almost-ritual through my college years. And sure enough, with hot water pouring around me (at my second or third shower of the day), I'd get an epiphany that would give me the creative jolt to tie the paper together in some meaningful, thoughtful way. Yet last week's bath was not for that reason. Hunched over my computer for hours working on a grant proposal, I could feel the stress rising in my body. And while the old me yearned to hunker through until I finished, the new (or "emerging") me knew this was the perfect time for a break.
You see, I'm not behaving much like myself these days. Eight years ago, I underlined a sentence in a book that I recently picked up again once I moved to Korea. It reads: "You're either losing your mind -- or gaining your soul." In the margins, I had scribbled, "Friends asking about a mid-life crisis" and in all-caps: BRILLIANT!
There's a famous episode of Seinfeld where George spends a day doing the exact opposite of everything he would have done normally. And the gags start when this ends up making him terrifically successful in just about everything: he gets his dream job working with the NY Yankees, he asks girls out, he becomes confident and respected.
Sometimes this is what I feel like my experiments -- my own 100 day projects -- make me do. Not that I think my "old" self was so bad. It wasn't. It isn't. I'm incredibly proud of all that I've achieved.
But I started to get a nagging question: Does it have to feel this hard? Is all the stress (and self-doubt) really necessary?
As it turns out, it's not. Because right after that deliciously warm bath last week, I cranked out a pretty great proposal (if I do say so myself). But I did it without wearing myself out, and with a lit candle, fun music, and a hot mug of tea beside me. What I'm learning is that things don't have to be a trade-off (work vs fun). It can be both. And that more fun also can mean better (and more creative) work.
Alas, this new frame of mind is a journey and not a destination. And sometimes it's easy for me to get derailed. That's why I started a new photo project (those of you on Instagram already know this) called #365 pleasures. Starting last Saturday on my birthday, I began posting a "pleasure" from each day... this could be a gorgeous avocado for breakfast or silk pajamas or walking barefoot in the park near our house (it's inspired from the amazing global project, #365grateful). It's a daily reminder to step away -- to consciously and purposefully inject more joy, fun, celebration, and play into my life.
And I'm learning that by taking the time to do that, my world doesn't crash around me. Maybe my inbox is fuller than usual, but maybe zero inbox is no longer the game I want to play. There's a yearning within to play bigger -- and while I don't yet know that this means yet, I know how I'll get there. Intense self-care (I'm still sleeping over 8 hours a night), simplying life, and yes -- a healthy dose of pleasure, play, and fun.
Anyone wanna go roller skating when I'm in NYC next week?
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