Hi there,

Today is going to be a bit different because this week is about replenishment and delight, but first we have to get honest.

I was on a call last weekend and when I put forth the idea of having a month off all by yourself, every. single. person. on. that. call. nodded. with. deep. understanding. Every. One. 

That's not a good thing. In fact, it's a sign that we MUST heed. 

I'm tired. Are you? 

I know that checking out and going to a hotel or a monastery or a retreat centre isn't really an option for many of us. So what is? How can we continue to function in our lives without dreaming of being hospitalised for something curable and small just so that we can finally finally get some rest and feel better?

My answer isn't the be-all and end-all, but it's a start: We need to re-fill our tanks.

This week I am inviting you to re-fill your tank. It's URGENT. And if your empty tank light is on (and you know who you are), it has actually become a non-negotiable.

My parents are currently going through Alzheimer's disease. I say my parents not because my Mom has it, but because my Dad does and that means she is dealing with it. A really interesting thing happened last year. My Dad wasn't as advanced and they agreed to experimental surgery. In the first weeks and months after, he was pretty much as far gone as it gets (thankfully he is doing so much better now). A nurse came to check on him and said to my Mom: "You need help", and because the situation was extreme and new, my Mom agreed.

Within weeks we had systems in place and people in place and plans in place. When I left a month later, she was not alone and she felt more empowered to ask for help.

A few months later she met a friend in the grocery store whose husband has the same disease. When they got talking, the friend was shocked at how much my Dad was "in the system". When Mom asked her why she wasn't doing the same things, the woman said, "Oh we're just been muddling along."

You know the story of the frog in the pot of boiling water right? If you put him in cold water and turn the heat on, he'll just swim and swim and eventually die. He adjusts to the temperature until it's too much. It's never bad enough for him to leap out - until it's too late. 

Last winter my Mom hired a guy to plough her driveway. The week before he started, she and I spent hours shovelling, coming in exhausted and sore (yes, I get that the exercise was good for us). When we stood in front of the picture window and watched the guy in his truck do the whole thing in under 3 minutes, we looked at each other and laughed. She said, "Why didn't I do that years ago?"

I'm telling you these stories to make you wonder: where are you the frog? Where are you 'just muddling along' when you could be supported and making it work better? Where can you look at things and adjust some of what is making you so tired? Where can you make choices that seem like, "Why didn't I do this years ago?"

I know that this is a challenge. I'm doing it out of love. Try. After this, the week will be delightful, I promise.

What if you could spend some time in creative delight more often? What can you do to make that happen? 

In preparation, here is today's assignment:

1. Make a list of everything that you have to do this week (and when I say have to, I mean the genuinely non-negotiables that must be done by you and you alone).
2. Make a list of everything that you could not do this week (including things that are shoulds but you don't want to do them, things that can wait, things that make you feel meh, and things that other people genuinely could do instead).
3. Now take each thing - yes, each one - and look at it and wonder whether there is anything there that could make this easier for you. Could you delegate? Could you see where there is or might be support? Could you change the rules? Where are things truly how they have to be and where are you the frog?  (This might be challenging, but the more kind and curious and - dare I say - logical and unemotional you can be, the better.)
4. Do at least one thing on that list - Make the call. Delegate. Shift. Cancel. Change. Ask. Wonder. Clear. 
5. Clear as much of what will be Day Seven of this course as possible. Or clear a single day somewhere around the end of the course or next week. Cancel things. Shift things. Remove things. Delegate things. Hire sitters if you can. Call in sick if you safely can. There won't be anything TO DO, but I want you to create the time just in case. (Don't make more problems for yourself though. Choose wisely.)
6. Make a list of everything you'd love to do this week (and for once I am telling you to be realistic: only put things on the list that are actually possible in this reality, this week.)
   

What does this have to do with writing and creative delight? We tell ourselves that we haven't got time or we have time but we are too tired to do anything. We don't do what fills us up because we are so busy doing everything else. So taking a good hard look at why and if those things are true and where you might possibly crack the lid open a little bit could start that refilling sooner than you think.

Habits and the-way-we've-always-done-it-before aren't fully creating the magic you want.

Relief is magical.

Actively find some.

I'll see you tomorrow.