Things were piling up. The calendar swelled with appointments, meetings, events, invitations, and activities. Household projects begged to be completed (or started), outdoor projects jostled for attention. There were errands to run, phone calls to return, e-mails to answer.
And then in the midst of all of that, the blog post I'd planned for today fizzled out.
My first impulse was to scramble to come up with another topic. Though I had plenty of ideas, all of them would take time to pull together, and time was what I didn't have. As I mentally scanned my gotta-do and wanna-do lists, it was clear I'd be pressed to make everything fit.
Then I had another thought: What if I just called time out? I'd already been planning to switch to a more leisurely blog-posting schedule for a few months over the summer, beginning in June. What if I started that a few weeks earlier than planned?
As soon as I had that thought, the space around me opened up. My breathing slowed. I felt like I could float on air.
Such a simple solution, just stepping back and saying, "Whoa, there." Yet it's crazily easy to forget that it's an option — that when things get too hectic, maybe they don't need to be. Maybe there are things that don't have to be done, or that don't have to be done quite the way you thought they did.
So with this post, I'm announcing the new, leisurely, summertime HeartWood schedule. For at least the next few months, I'll be posting only on the first and third Wednesdays of the month (see dates below). That means no Last Wednesday Wisdoms for a while. But don't worry, I'll still be gathering tidbits to share later on.
I'm grateful for the faithful readers who show up here every Wednesday, and I hope this change won't throw you all for a loop. But I'll bet you, too, have more things clamoring for your time than time to do them, so this will give you some breathing space, too.
And if you just can't stay away from HeartWood every Wednesday (or any other day), you're welcome to visit and read previous posts you've missed or re-read any you especially liked.
Here's when you can expect to find new posts:
See you in June!
5/23/2018 06:58:30 am
This is great advice, Nancy. I do think we can overwhelm ourselves with our schedules. You deserve to enjoy quiet time. You have such a wonderful blog here.
5/23/2018 07:49:08 am
This post is like validation from the blogosphere! It finally dawned on me that not opening Lily Hill to visitors this season was an option. I'd already had inquiries about visiting, and I was feeling the stress of getting everything ready to MY standards. When people drive distances, I don't want to disappoint...I have a new hammock, and I'm spending time in it this summer!!!
5/23/2018 09:10:15 am
Yes indeed , a helpful reminder.
5/23/2018 09:21:47 am
This is a great reminder--especially in spring with all those outdoor gardening projects vying for completion by Memorial Day! We don't give ourselves permission to relax. Thank you for sharing.
5/23/2018 10:15:54 am
Good for you! No need to keep piling on more and more responsibilities. I applaud you for your clear thinking. You know that old adage-"Sometimes we can be our own worst enemy." Sometimes we have to be our best friend! Enjoy your summer!
5/23/2018 10:46:53 am
I took a deep breath just reading this. Your blog always brightens my day and week. I support and value your wisdom and 'hit the pause button' example. Much needed.
5/23/2018 11:56:58 am
I would have read this blog earlier, but I had seeds to sow. Now its hammock time :) cheers
5/23/2018 02:37:38 pm
Nice example to us of how to do this! Many thanks!
6/9/2018 05:30:29 am
Once again you have inspired me. Only this time not to learn something, or do something new, but to slow down, enjoy this moment and now this moment. Thank you Nan. Your inspiration will be welcome when and how you choose. We just bought hammocks for our youngest son and his family, now maybe we need to take that advice!
6/11/2018 09:08:54 am
Hooray for hammocks!
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Written from the heart,
from the heart of the woods
Read the introduction to HeartWood here.
Nan Sanders Pokerwinski, a former journalist, writes memoir and personal essays, makes collages and likes to play outside. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, Ray.