In October, I shared a story on Instagram about how I had gotten so busy with MySuperFoods' work one day that I just didn't realize what time it was and that dinner wasn't being made. Since this was completely out of the norm, I was happily surprised to find that my husband and daughters just sort of figured it out. That even though I am somehow deemed the person in charge of keeping the food supply up for everyone in the house at all times (hello, moms everywhere) not showing up didn't meant that everything fell to pieces. And BONUS, the rest of the team stepped up. Slowing down my responsibilities actually ended up working in my favor.
About 6 weeks after that post, I ruptured my right Achilles' tendon, putting me totally out of commission for about 3 months and still unable to drive at month four. The irony of all of this is not lost on me. That this "forgotten dinner" was the big win of the day and the team stepping up to feed themselves was the season victory. But I love rereading my October Instagram post below and thinking about this knowing glance about what was waiting for me (and us) up ahead. Those little glimmers of what we actually need (for me, SLOWING DOWN) are kind of a precursor of things to come. Sometimes. In this case, for me, it was less of a glimmer and more of a poke in the eye. Either way, here's the post for you to take a read:
Recently, a friend asked what I was grateful for and one of the things I said is my ability to multi-task without feeling overwhelmed. After she said something like, "I wish!" I admitted that it's mostly great, but can definitely be a slippery slope if I push too far.
My whole life, I could easily turn "doing" into a competition. How much more can I do? One upping myself until I run myself into the ground. I've said it since March, but one of the benefits of being forced to do less this year is literally slowing down. Turns out the "forced" part was necessary for me.
Last week, I had a lot of work to do and just didn't get up to make dinner when I normally would have. I don't always get that luxury, but I knew it was possible that day. Unexpected to everyone else. But possible.
If you're the person in the house who normally makes dinner and you DON'T make dinner, the non-dinner-makers notice. A lot. It wasn't a big deal, I just didn't make an announcement or an apology. I just kept working, like I often wish I could and never do. And as hunger set in and my husband finished working, the non-dinner-makers figured it out. No one went to bed hungry. Miracle.
Turns out when I slow down, others may step up. Guess they needed to be forced too.