I had this moment yesterday.
My e-mails were answered,
my work was done,
my schedule was clear for the rest of the afternoon.
The laundry was done.
The house was clean.
There were bananas in the house. (Because God knows that if there aren’t bananas, there’s nothing to eat.)
In other words — for one glorious, victorious moment — my shit was TOGETHER.
I briefly considered never changing my clothing again to avoid making more laundry, then I went to yoga and made more. Because bikram.
Having your shit together isn’t an attainable state of being, despite what the yoga magazines and marketing gurus are selling.
Your shit’s state of togetherness is a series of acts that culminates in the ever-so-rare, glorious moment when you are free of responsibilities and obligations. You might get a few seconds, you might get a few minutes. An hour, if you’re exceptionally tuned in to your own life.
…and then the responsibilities and obligations return. Because you’re still alive. Because life is for the living and laundry is for the making.
No one who’s solely focused on managing a life gets to live much of one.
You’ll never get to tick ‘shit together’ or ‘life balance’ off your list, but you do get a handful of moments when you’re free enough from the earthbound stuff to dance with the divine.
If you get one a month, you’re lucky. One a week, you are immeasurably blessed.
No one who’s riding their own edges has their ducks in any sort of row, because they’re constantly in a state of trying something new and seeing how it goes. Ducks flying all over the freaking place, all the time. Geese stomping through and attacking, hissing all the way from here to next Tuesday.
Just when you think everything is together, it’s all upended and you’ve got flying squirrels dive-bombing the party. That’s the state of being creative, of making, of doing, of trying, of being alive.
…and really, couldn’t we all use more flying squirrels?
P.S. Closely related to having shit together: the trouble with mentors and the problem with bullet points.