A Life Lesson Comes Home

I can't tell you how many times in the past twenty-five years since I’m been writing and speaking on living well in the later years, that I've said, "In the time of your life when you slow up some, you finally have an opportunity to smell the daisies." I advocate examining the pace so many of us live at; the crammed daily calendar, the long “to-do” lists, the tight schedule of our own making. Other bloggers on the Third Age have approached this subject from the point of view of staying healthy, living with more awareness, taking time to take care of yourself, and other valid perspectives. I’ve just learned the hard lesson that saying “slow down” doesn’t necessarily allow it to happen. Here’s my personal story of what made me listen to my own words and finally fully understand.

The man I’ve been living with for almost five years has had several health problems in the past year and a half. Heart surgery, breathing limitations, and several as yet undiagnosed annoying and worrisome symptoms are part of the list of things that have given me the responsibility of taking over many of his tasks and taking care of him. I guess I’m like many women who might not say it out loud but secretly believe, "I can do it all!" So these past several weeks, that's what I’ve attempted to do – the shopping, cook all the meals, wash the dishes, clean the house, do the laundry, walk the dog twice a day, have the cars serviced, return phone calls, deal with over seventy e-mails daily, jump on airplanes intermittently to get to meetings and conferences where I've committed to give speeches and jumping on the first plane home even if it was the red-eye. And after hours, late into the night, I've felt obligated to write several chapters of my forthcoming book to keep my editor from getting nervous over deadlines. And of course, I do what needs to be done for my sweet guy who is doing far less for himself these days.

It didn't take many weeks before I was living on 4-5 hours of sleep, dealing with a severe virus infection, and realizing that I was less than efficient. I was crabby and short-tempered. Where did I get that crazy idea that I was a superwoman? As I stood looking blankly around the kitchen wondering what I can in here to do, I remembered the words of an interview I did with Dana Reeve, the wife of the late actor, Christopher Reeve. She was his primary caregiver when he sustained a paralyzing injury when he was thrown from his horse.

In her words, "Day by day, it was about getting things done" -- I told myself, as many other women have, "I can do it, I can do it, I can do it. Whatever it is, I can do it. I can cope with it. I can do it all. It takes a tremendous amount of energy, almost manic energy, but I'll do it!" And then she added, "Eventually there was a realization that this isn’t a sprint, it’s a long-distance jog and I’d better settle into the rhythm. This is the status quo. This is now normal life."

And so I took a deep breath and realized that this was now my normal life. My advice to others who were struggling to balance a career, a social and personal life and caregiving responsibilities was a lesson that had now come home. Burnout is the alternative to not slowing down, making time for myself to get back into exercise and to relax, stop the constant “doing,” and put some of my energy into just “being,” as some have labeled that quiet time when you put the to-do list aside.

These past few weeks I find myself less anxious about everything. I’ve re-arranged my priorities and amazingly, most things eventually get done. Or if they don’t, well, I guess whatever it was didn’t matter that much. Sometimes I have to move self-imposed deadlines, and often I have to fight off those deeply ingrained impulses to get it all done. I'm learning not to be anxious spending and hour or two doing what I once labeled, “wasting time”. I’m learning, or better said, I’m working on unlearning some of my old ways. I never was super-woman, and now I now longer I aspire to be her.