Through the Fog

I went running in the fog this morning.  A silken curtain of white dropped down from the sky.  When I was moving, my feet hitting the pavement, my breath coming in jagged little lines I hardly knew what was in front of me.  The fog was thick, and as I looked ahead it seemed like a solid mass that I wouldn't be able to penetrate.  And yet, I stepped right through and kept running until I couldn't run anymore.

When I was making my cool down walk home, I looked up and my heart starting pounding.  The mist had descended, heavy and low, and it looked like two plumes of smoke were rising directly above my house.  I thought about my family still tucked tightly in their beds, and I was scared they were stuck in a fiery house.  Until the illusion lifted, and I realized it was just the two trees standing next to each other in my backyard.

 

 

I was stuck in a fog for a long time.  For most of my life, I've drudged slowly through, not knowing where I was going and what I've wanted to do.  I've mistaken one thing for another, only to realize it was something completely different.  I've been tricked by the illusion that I couldn't succeed or be who I wanted to be. 

 

For me, the fog was crippling.  I'd sit down instead of walking through it, looking at it as a barrier instead of just a temporary roadblock, a small inconvenience. I've lived a lot of my life thinking woe is me, if only I could do this or that, if only I could write, if only I could make something of myself.  I failed to see I could remove myself from the fog by acting instead of just writhing in the pain of my existence. 

 

For a long time, I had dreams.  I had dreams I felt were unattainable.  I was negative about not being able to write for a living and not having hair and not having enough money.  I was always focused on what I didn't have and not on what I do have.  I ALWAYS wanted more.  The fog of disbelief kept me from moving forward, from putting one foot in front of the other and removing myself from its heaviness. 

 

 

But I realized the only way to get where you want in life and to do what you want, to reach your dreams and to reach your goals, is to strive for them.  So many people walk through this life living in their dreams, but never TRY to achieve them. 

 

I'm finally seeing some results from my writing, because I write every day now.  I don't say I wish I was a writer and never write a sentence.  I say, I wish I was a writer and I have a goal to write every day. It's the same way with any goal in your life.  If you set goals and you start acting you can remove yourself from the dismalness of the fog too.  Even when it seems like nothing can change and everything is horrible baby steps will get you where you're going: into the light where nothing can hold you back.

 

 



Procrastination

I am tired today.  So tired.  My allergies are acting up, and Alabama has been a pit of rain for two, going on three days.  I stumbled down to my coffee, sat down, put on my ear buds and Pandora, and opened up Facebook.  It took me almost all the way through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to realize that my Pandora was on the kid's Lullaby station.  Wow. My mind at work. 

I have always been a procrastinator.  I've always been one of those people who'd rather do one thing over another, putting off the "other" thing eternally because I just don't want to do it.  I am still that way, because procrastination goes hand in hand with perfectionism, and I'm that too: a perfectionist.

Every day there is something I put off: making dinner, signing papers, CLEANING, a project at work, Yearbook: any number of things.  Procrastination doesn't help though: it makes it worse.  When you procrastinate, and it is something that absolutely has to be done, you end up rushing and this leads to stress and anxiety.  I used to think that I worked best under a close deadline, but as I've gotten older I've realized if I plot my time out, and I have enough time to do what I need to get done then I feel better about the accomplishment.

I still procrastinate CLEANING.  A part of my brain says, "Why bother doing that?  Those kids who live with you are just going to mess it up again."  A part of my brain says, "Why can't we just hire a maid?"  Excuses to not do what I'm supposed to be doing.  There is a reason inside for every single thing you procrastinate.  You just have to explore that reason, find out what it is, and then address the issue. 

I know what it is about cleaning that bothers me.  It makes me feel obsessive compulsive.  Once I start, I have a hard time stopping.  I want it to be PERFECT (and we all know there is no such thing as perfect).  I don't like the way it feels while I'm doing it, but I do like the outcome.  Because of this, an unfair burden of housework falls on my husband.  Plus, I am ALWAYS procrastinating doing the housework, but he makes a list daily and generally crosses items off his list.  These are his daily goals, and they keep the house clean, the kids fed and dressed, and the household moving forward.  As he says, "Well, someone has to do it," and by that he means, "It sure as hell isn't going to be you!"

I've learned this year how to stop procrastinating (a little bit, and obviously not in the cleaning arena yet).  Routine helps procrastination end.  I don't procrastinate writing anymore, because my routine calls for me to work on my novel from 5:30 AM to 6:15 AM every morning.  I don't procrastinate at work, because I don't have time to put anything off.  Mostly, it's just an at home thing now.

It's something I'll probably need to work on the rest of my life, but not now: I think I'll read right now, or write, maybe play a game on the computer, or watch television...