This morning I am sitting at my desk in my bedroom, writing as I promised myself I would do daily. I've cranked some tunes to drown out the exuberant sounds from the toddler as he orders my husband to hold toys in a certain way and the impending meltdown when his communication attempts fail to provide his desired result. Although I planned this time for work work, (as opposed to house work or kid work or all the other works), I am distracted by the other things I should be doing. Is my little guy getting enough activity and stimulation? Wouldn't it be better for him if I was providing him with those things? Are my big kids okay at school? Should I be there volunteering more often? The upstairs hasn't been vacuumed and there is all that laundry on the couch. Am I wasting my time--or their time--in here writing for this blog that produces no income? What about all the time I spend editing photos and learning new techniques? So much of my work time is spent doing things with no monetary reward. Are the risks, the sacrifices, too much? All of this plagues me as I sit here at the computer every day, trying to produce as much as possible in the few hours I get every day.
This afternoon I will go tend to the laundry, the kitchen, the vacuuming. While I do that, I will be angsty about all the work I didn't get done here this morning. Is vacuuming so important? Can the kitchen wait? What about the photos I have to deliver, the freelance writing gig, the networking and marketing and social media management and my non-profit work and that amazing project I have planned but haven't started yet and.....and....and.
I'm Buddhist, but I'm not very good at it. My goal for the coming week is to be present. When I work, I work. When I parent, I parent. I will try not to give in to perfectionist, parent, or professional guilt. Wherever I am, I will be.
Then I might experience the unapologetic emotion of this present moment like this wild little Zen master.
