And these reminders usually jump into your head at the most useless times: when you are standing crammed in the subway; or in the shower; or in the middle of a Board meeting at work. At least, that's when they strike me - when I am least able to jot them down on one of my running to-do lists for the week.
What does this have to do with my writing routine, you ask? Well, when I sat down at my computer last week to write, I simply could not get in the moment and focus. This isn't unusual...sometimes it takes me a few minutes to get into the rhythm. But this time, the to-do items and reminders were completely overpowering. I was in a battle with my nagging thoughts, and the nagging thoughts were winning.
Finally, I got so frustrated, I decided to embrace my inner David Allen (if you’ve read Getting Things Done, you know what I’m talking about). I moved to the couch with a giant pad of paper and pen and decided to write down anything and everything I could think of that may need to get done. From the major (those 2 reports I need to get finished for work) to the fun (watch all the Oscar movies in time for the big night) to the fairly trivial (buy those walnuts for the salad I’m making in 2 weeks).
I was hoping this very detailed list writing would put an end to that nagging voice in my head. It did not. Tossing the pad across the room, I caught a glimpse of a family picture on my dresser and felt my stomach double over.
It was then that it struck me. My mind wasn't actually trying to remind me of a task. It was reminding me of my Dad. Five years ago at this time, my dad was battling brain cancer. It was a short battle – he died 4 months later in May. My body/mind/heart was trying to remind me to sit, reflect, and be sad for a minute. Turns out, despite my best efforts to hide and distract myself from sad emotions, my subconscious was not letting me get away with it.
So I sat there, on the floor, in my den, and had a good cry. And thought back to my best times with Dad, and smiled. Then one of his jokes popped into my mind and I laughed. Turns out, letting myself "feel" wasn't as scary as I thought it might be. While it did evoke sadness, happiness was there too. I remembered things about Dad that were already starting to fade in my memory - all the stories, adventures and fun we shared. By letting in the sad, I opened myself up to the happy as well.
My lesson this week? Make time for my emotions. Especially the ones I may not want to face. They’ll creep up on me anyway. And, some good (maybe great) ones will creep in there too. So, this week I’ve given myself permission to skip the writing routine. Maybe go back through some old photographs; write down some stories about my Dad. Just sit with it. I already feel better – and slept for 10 uninterrupted hours last night.
Are there any emotions nagging away at you this week?