I’ve been busy. I’ve been traveling. I’ve been sick.

It isn’t perfect. It isn’t ready. It isn’t finished.

I’m not perfect. I’m not ready. I’m not finished.

Today is the day. Why? Because today I have a reason why it shouldn’t be the day. Today marks the anniversary of my dad’s death. It has been 12 years and I am still counting.

Every year I experience this day in similar and different ways.  Every year I am shocked at how my body physically responds to the internal knowing that the day is approaching. Every year I feel. I feel it all and it never feels good. It never feels ok. It isn’t ok.

I have noticed that in the last few years, I feel a sense of urgency about life. It’s as if I think my time is running out. It’s as if I think I too might have fewer years here than expected. I spin myself into a web of increasingly difficult goals, impossible standards, and daily to-do lists that no one could expect to complete in 24 hours. When faced with loving words of wisdom, I respond with internal thoughts that tell me that the “rules,” don’t apply to me, that I, in fact, CAN do everything. I can do it all and do it all perfectly. 

And then, I break.

I break down. I shut down. I lay down. I cry.

I don’t learn.

 I listen. I understand. I know what I’m doing. I know it’s irrational. I assume when you know better, you do better.  Didn’t Oprah tell us that? There must be a space between the knowing and the doing. That must be where I am.

We have now established where I am and that today is the day.

For what? Right. That. 

Today is the day I am going to turn on the webpage/blog I’ve been working on.

Why?

Because, today, I can’t do everything I’d like to, but I can do this thing.  Because Jeff is right. If my dad were here and he knew his time was short he wouldn’t speed up trying to do everything. He wouldn’t be paralyzed by the need for perfection. He probably wouldn’t even run Grammarly despite his obvious need. He would slow down and make space for the good stuff. Here’s hoping I’m on my way out of this space and onto the doing. We’ll see.