Daylight Savings Time didn't faze me when I was younger. An hour here, an hour there. A little more sleep. A little less. I don't remember it bothering me much one way or the other.
This, however, is no longer the case. Now, for a week after we spring forward, I wake up feeling like I'm already behind. An hour stolen, I stagger into the day, feeling frustrated and annoyed.
My DST disorientation and disgruntlement is due, in no small part, to my relationship to productivity. I've written about my tendency to let my To Do list drive my days here and here ... and am likely to write about it again since I'm having a hell of a time shaking my habit of prioritizing getting sh*t done.
But even my busyness habit aside, I am, of late, sharply aware of the Sisyphean nature of adult life and more particularly an adult life in an aging body. There is literally no end (except the ultimate one) to stuff that needs to be done. Ignoring just for the moment, household chores and professional work (and there is plenty of that to be sure), just the general care of a post-menopausal body is a thing.
Strength training to support bone health, stretching to support joint health, meditation to support mental health, flossing to support dental health. And that's just before breakfast.
Skipping stretching used to be an option. No longer. (photo: Rebecca George Photography)
Don't get me wrong, I feel lucky to have a body that's lived 58 years, relationships and a home that need attention, a small business that I can run on my own. But playing catch up after turning the clocks forward finds me cramming everything into an already full day and I can get cranky.
On days when I feel like I'm on a treadmill that's set just a little too fast, I remind myself that there are the things that support my life and then there is my life. If all I'm doing are the things that support my life, I'm not actually living my life.
When I'm focusing on all the supporting -- on the care, maintenance and feeding of myself and others -- I'm missing the main event. In a conversation about this recently, a dear friend gently said, "What if your life is yours? It was given to you as a gift. You can use that gift as you choose."
Well, yes yes yes, I sighed. But I want to do all these things, take care of myself well, take care of others well. All the support stuff makes everything go better. Only I'm feeling what a relentless, unending undertaking all of it is.
In that moment, I remembered Maurice Sendak's last interview with Terry Gross. His final words in the interview bring tears to my eyes every time I hear them:
Live your life. Live your life. Live your life.
So right now, I'm going to stretch out on my office rug with a book and read in the early spring sunshine. Doing all the things that support myself and others is important ... and so is doing my living things.
Ask what supports you, yes. What makes your living easier and better? What makes you feel better, move better, think better, sleep better? Do those things. And also live your life, live your life, live your life.