Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on broken.
Go.
I walked into a week of systems breaking down and my business being in some trouble because of it. I felt like I was going to end up broken too. I felt the pressure mounting and as soon as I came up with a solution, another problem arose and things just continued to break all around me.
And you want to know what I did...for one whole night, I did nothing. I watched TV (sitcoms no less) with a bestie. I ate ice cream on her couch and I laughed at a romantic comedy watching 2 people in love. I did nothing. I have never once, not even one time in my entire time on earth, done nothing. And holy hell, it worked.
The next day I got to work. I looked at what I had in place, I leaned on those that I adore, those I trust, I asked those that work for me to extend themselves. I created a plan, I thanked, I praised, I thanked and thanked even more. I organized, I stopped panicking, I communicated, I asked for patience, I asked for forgiveness, I got to work. I fixed it, even temporarily until our long term plan could work out, I fixed it. And later that night, I celebrated. As I drank my martini, I turned to my husband that made me the perfect drink, looked into his gorgeous eyes and said, I fixed it Coach. "I'm proud of you".
Typically, when things break, I break a little too. I did this time for sure. But I took a night to be (who knew that was a thing) to not think, and just be. The world didn't stop spinning, the clients didn't run away, I was really ok. That night, on my bestie's couch, eating her ice cream and falling back in love with the couple that gave me couple goals, well, that was the start of fixing my broken.
Stop.
Just being is life giving. Hope you get to do it more often.
Glad you fixed it. Sometimes doing nothing is the right first step. That sounds weird to the doers and strivers, among whom I count myself. I like your approach instead and it looks like it worked, too.
I once thought there was nothing worse
that would knock out all my stuffing
than succumbing to the curse
of just doing nothing.
I thought I had to run all day
(was it fight or flight?)
and then there would hell to pay
as I analyzed all night.
But then the world came crashing in
with cancer and his friends,
and I learned how to begin
to know how this life ends,
and there's less of worth in all I've done
than in watching a quiet rising sun.