My evolving life story Emergingvoices:Some days Marcia Hyatt is swatting "to-do's"
by Marcia Hyatt
I should know my own life story shouldn't I? But I keep learning. I read we spend 95 percent of our day in reflexive or habitual behavior. It makes sense. For example, I did not notice how I start my days worried there is not enough time. I wake up with lists in my head, knowing that my lists far exceed the minutes in the day. So I ditch self-care practices and rush around swatting as many to do's as I can reach. It has been through sharing my story in women's circles that I noticed-really noticed-my life.
It was my turn to check-in with my women's circle last summer. What I love about the group is we don't do advice. Instead we listen so intently it feels like a warm embrace. "I am too busy," I said. "I have too much to do and not enough time. I am swamped preparing for our daughter's wedding, work is picking up, play rehearsals every night and there are life's pesky persistent demands (like groceries and laundry). I can barely breathe." Then I stopped. How many times had I said that same thing to this group? Probably I said it every time we had met, two times a month over the past six years. You could change nouns: work, house, wedding or family-yet it was the same story.
In my younger years, I remember feeling pride telling people I was busy. I loved when people said, "How do you do all that?" It made me feel important. And when I worked as a manager, I blamed the organization for my incredibly busy life. Now I know hyperactivity is a key theme in my storyline. It is my gift to have lots of energy and to get lots of things done. I am enthusiastic; I am responsible. And it is my curse-I move so fast I can miss the day. What was the weather? Were the birds singing? I didn't notice. Relationships can suffer, recreation does suffer.
Telling my story again and again has made it more obvious; I see my heroine tackling the same dragon over and over. Being busy had seemed like the only real possibility. And now that story shows up in relief, contrasted with other stories.
Another woman in the circle talked about how time was elastic in her life. There always seemed to be enough. Recreation is her priority. She makes sure she does not commit too much. Instead, she does what she feels like in the moment on most days. She lives simply. "Wow," I thought, "how does she do that?" There was another way of living I could not have imagined.
And my storytelling circles create bonds. It is very different than just talking to friends. When someone tells me a story, I listen differently. It is a glimpse into their world. This is even truer if the story is told wholeheartedly. Then I see the narrative of their heart and soul; the events of their life that have formed them. I learn compassion and often love for women who live in very different worlds; even women I could not have initially imagined as friends.
Finally, for me the most important gift of storytelling circles is that it helped me frame my life as a "story." Being busy is not just the way things are-not the only reality. I could see the plot twist possibilities. I could see paths not taken. Even more important, I could see myself as the author. If I paid attention, I could craft the next chapter intentionally and meaningfully.
So now, one year later, I often make different choices. Most mornings I give myself the gift of self-care practices (exercise and reflection). And yet when I am really overloaded, I catch myself slipping. I have succumbed to the dragon of not enough time. And I breathe deeply and I ask myself, "What would life be like with a bit more spaciousness in my days?" Sometimes it changes the minutes of my day. And sometimes I laugh and continue to swat as many "to do's" as I can reach.
Emerging Voices is the second of a series of columns by Ginny Belden-Charles and Marcia Hyatt. They are business partners at Waterline Consulting which supports leaders and organizations in creating their intended future. www.waterlineconsulting.com.
Reader Comments
Posted: Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Article comment by:
Anna Hess
As one who was driven by my necessity to do To Do's, imagine my sense of loss at finding myself incapable of even the simplest form of doing. The best thing I have learned from my brain injury is that slowing down does not mean doing less. It means that what I am able to do is worthy of being of savored. The simplest things give me pleasure and everything else is just noise in my head. Marcia's energy is a gift and so is her ability to understand and to listen to others. Not getting everything done is not failure; it's doing your best and living with it.
