Under Pressure

There’s been a theme in my life as of late, rolling, steaming, and foaming near the top like residue on a latte.  I’ve been feeling an immense sense of pressure to be my former self, the self that was free from quarantine, free from this new normal.  When this detention life first started my brain went into survival mode, except there was nothing to survive because there was nothing actionable I could do but stay my ass inside.  Then I went into panic mode because I realized everything I had planned for the year was not going to happen, I was not going to China to test new fabric technology for my brand, I was not going to the Copenhagen fashion summit, not returning to my favorite city of Paris, or taking my vaca in Bali.  I wasn’t going to be able to publish my book, I wasn’t going to be able to work on certain collaborations that I wanted to.  Could I even move into a bigger apt?! Visit my “framily” for Thanksgiving!? Where was the world heading!?! aahh! …but I digress…

That feeling slowly but surely faded away as I talked myself through it (which I touched on briefly in last weeks post Who Are We Now), and I learned to find growth and peace in this mandatory time of solitude. Over the past week, upon the return from an interesting escape to Vermont, that wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be, I have been feeling that same sense of panic that I did in early quar-routine days.  An odd sense that I am running out of time, that everything must be done right now, or it will never get done at all.  But that’s part of being human, actioning to protect yourself without fully understanding why at times. I woke up this morning, walked my pup, made some delicious Danish coffee from the Puerto Rican Coffee House down the street on 8th, and sat at my computer feeling overwhelmed.  Should I read more of the book for my book club? Finish work emails? Go to my PO Box? Continue research for the next book I’m writing? Work on my side business project? Hmmm, my dog does look like she needs a haircut…  Bailey gave me the side eye as if saying “Not today mom, you have clearly lost it.”

(Side note, for those of you who don't know me and think I'm 
insane for working on a Sat morning: Business lights my soul 
on fire, writing lights my heart on fire, and ultimately, love 
is tucked away in the tiny corners of everything that I do.)

My buzzer rang, groceries that were being delivered early, and as I stood by my front door waiting for the knock from my grocery guy, I told myself to breathe. It will all be ok. The book will get read, the other written. Life is nothing but a spinning globe threatening us with the restraints of time.  The only evidence are the wrinkles we may come to wear on our face, but that doesn’t dictate how or why we do things.  There is nothing to be gained ultimately but joy in doing them.  Happiness.  Bailey put her leash in her mouth and walked my way dropping it a foot from my feet making a Chewbacca like growling noise as she plopped her body down, chicken legs and all.  We stared at each other.  The pressure that I felt, that has been building up, is not going to change the world’s circumstances, but I can change myself, my outlook, my expectations.  One thing at a time.  One day at a time.  Coffee first. It will all be OK, Oni~

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