Removing the Cape

In the past six months of my life I: wrote and published a fiction mystery novel, left a long-term career, vacationed in Hawaii, brought my oldest son home, got engaged, took on two amazing non-fiction projects, started my second fiction mystery novel and am getting ready to move at the end of this month. I drank about eighty-seven gallons of coffee, played full time single mom to an eight year old, hurt my leg again and then began running again. I participated in my very first book signing event, met two amazing POW’s, spent time with my grandpa, began integrating two families and lived without a paycheck for all six months. Throw in all of the day-to-day life items like cleaning, cooking, working out, helping with homework, feeding and bathing dogs and trying to stay connected with family and friends, and you have a schedule that mimics that of a high ranking corporate talking head.

Some days I wonder how I will make it through and some days I wake up thinking it looks like a piece of cake. But every single day is a juggling act. It’s not only a question of time and scheduling, but also a question of how much emotional and physical fuel is in the tank. Trying to be superwoman is exhausting. Ex-haust-ing. There are nights that I welcome the comfort and escape of my pillow and fall asleep with ease. Then there are those nights that I reluctantly crawl into bed and will myself to sleep only because I know my body needs it. I feel guilty up to the second I fall asleep. Yes, guilty. Guilty for not accomplishing everything on my unmanageable list of things to do. Guilty because I feel like I failed as a mom, as a writer, as a daughter, as a fiancé or just as a human being.

The allure of running around like superwoman is, of course, obtaining the feeling I have on those days when I pull it all off, beautifully. But the downside to thinking and acting like I am superwoman is that crap feeling I get when I don’t quite measure up to my own unrealistic standards – the ones I set for myself, knowing full well that I am not strong enough to carry the load every day.

So what’s the answer? I don’t know. I know this about me – I will continue to overfill my schedule and say yes to those people and causes that I care about more times than is realistic. I will do this over and over until I crumble under the weight of a schedule that nobody could be expected to pull off and then I will stop. I withdraw and shut down for a day or two. I make everyone around me suffer during those days. I suffer during those days. But then this truly beautiful thing happens, and I become refreshed and renewed. I get two straight good nights of sleep, and I fall back into a regular running and workout routine. I don’t answer every email, FB comment, Twitter post and direct message within minutes of receiving them. I put my phone on silent, and I soak up the tight hug of a beautiful eight year old, I listen, truly listen, to the silly ramblings of a college student, and I spend more than five minutes catching up with my oldest son. I turn up the music loud while I run in the sunshine, and I look around at the new blooms, the color of the water as I pass the ocean – you know all the things I’ve missed while I was too busy being busy. I hold hands with my man, I spend a full day not rushing from one thing to the next with a stupid sense of self-imposed urgency, I make a real dinner for the whole family, and sit down to take time to eat it and I breathe. I remember how to live, how to just BE. Then I go back to stacking my calendar and catching up with my overflowing inbox, I go back to being superwoman.

I recognized this pattern in myself long ago, but I didn’t know how to fix it, and I still don’t. I am learning, however, to prioritize it. I am also learning that I don’t have to be perfect – nobody expects me to be – nobody but me. I think that many of us (writers) place such high expectations on ourselves. I don’t think this is a bad thing, but I do think it is something that warrants reflection and understanding. We should examine the big picture and set our goals deliberately. I think we get sometimes lost wanting it all, and all at the same time that we can easily overlook the most important pieces of the big picture.

For me – the big picture is providing for my kids. The other part of the picture is figuring out how to do that while doing what I love to do – by writing. And though daily balance is not something I have mastered, I feel it is important to understand that I recognize the need for more balance and that I spend time thinking about how to come up with new and creative ideas to achieve a healthier balance for my family, my writing and myself. That is a lot more than the old me would have attempted to do. I am learning with age, growing wiser I suppose. And I am proud of the ever evolving me.

I know I will stumble, I know I will take on too much and push myself to the point of almost breaking. I am not in denial about who I am at my core, and I don’t expect to correct myself overnight. I do expect to continue to grow as a person, as a mom as a writer, as a fiancé and as a friend. I know I will disappoint myself, and I know I will be proud of myself. That’s part of life – that’s part of growth. Learning to take off the cape is something we all have to do at some point. And its relative – that picture of ourselves sporting that cape. Because this week when I unplug and take that beautiful little girl out for the day – just the two of us – well I know, that’s when she will envision me in that cape. Those are the moments when I am superwoman in her eyes, and at the end of the day, it is what the eyes of those closest to us see that matters the most.

-RJ