Too Caught up To Start

I have been stressed lately - too stressed.  I am a firm believer that there is such a thing as a healthy amount of stress, you know, just enough to keep you motivated, but not so much that it wears at your heart?  That little push that comes from knowing a deadline is upcoming, but which ebbs and flows with period of higher stress (the few days before that paper is due, or that big meeting will happen), and period of lower stress (when you can, without any guilt whatsover, devote an entire day to lounging about and reading some fiction.)  The problem for me is that I've been having far too much of the former and never enough of the latter.  It shows too.  My nails have been bitten to the quick (after growing so long and lovely!), I'm getting snappy, and when I did end up (unintentionally) taking most of a day to myself, well, I felt terrible as soon as I had realised how much time had passed. 

Part of the problem is that I'm terribly guilty of what Alison May has called Lifestyle Accumulation Disorder.  I have gathered so many things and ideas about what I should be doing, and intend on doing, and never enough time actually doing it.  There are those hobbies that sounded like a terrific idea but never seem to last, or the books that I know I will never read.  These are the intentions about how I should live, complete with books and methods with thirty days to transform myself into something else, make myself happier, be a better knitter, learn astronomy, or somehow or another make myself just a little closer to "perfect". 

While I can always get rid of things around my house, and find paring down far easier than most, these are the things I struggle to let go of.  They are not material objects, though they may be exhibited in the form of material objects such as paint pots and electronic files; instead, they are dreams.  They are dreams of how life could be better, would be better, if only I managed to master this or that, or made myself into some strange combination of perfect housekeeper, erudite parish minister and theologian, have read all the great books of the Western Canon and then some (after all i am a lady-scholar), an artist of unknowable talent and depth, and all those things that Jane Austen says are required for a truly accomplished lady.  In between all of this, of course, I am also a sexy wife for my husband, take care of my body with perfect nutrition and exercise, a terrific friend, and a treasure to all of my family.  Oh, and somehow manage to turn myself into the most perfect, and selfless Christian, who turns all her influence over to the terrible injustices of the world.  Of course, I cannot be all of these things at once, and there are things I know I will never be that terrific at. 

Right now, I am trying to pare down though.  I am trying to make concessions and acknowledge the things I will never be, and the talents and skills that I will not have any time in the near future.  My expectations for myself are high, and only rise, and I am fine with that, after all I do believe that I should expect more from myself than I do from anyone else, after all, this body and mind are the only ones in my own control.  My expectations though need to be just a bit more reasonable.  The truth is, I am not just plain old getting rid of things that I am not currently using.  I am; however, letting go of the expectation that I'll do them all at once.  I can keep my piano (which I have only about a grade one education in), and my piano books, knowing that after grad school this is something I genuinely want to study again.  I can keep the craft supplies, but admit that while I knit all the time, sewing is less frequent.  I can accept that I like to paint, but am frustrated at my lack of skill, and just go for it when I feel like it.  And I absolutely can accept that while I do enjoy these things, I do not have to feel guilty about my lack of training or practice, and that's just fine.  I can give away the books I know I will never get around to reading, and keep the ones I cherish, and actually want to read at some point.