Sloppy Towels = My New Sanity

Towels folded by others. Perfectly.

With a huge sigh of relief, I made it through September 2016. Four weeks, 12 flights, 2 road trips and about 8 nights in my own bed total. I do it to myself every year so it is not really a surprise and in the midst of it, it always hurts but on the other side, it always feels good.

The productivity.

The contacts.

The projects

Nothing matches the energy boost to my business as September of every year.

Now this year is different because it's the first time I'm winging solo as a single mom. The previous 4.5 years I could count on my husband to keep everything running smoothly at home during my chaotic time on the road. I say 1/2 because last year, I had an indication the marriage was over and his untreated clinical depression had rendered him less than capable during last year's annual September run. It did not end well and I knew I'd be in for it come 2016.

I planned better and overall it went well.  Yet there were aspects that still did not go as smoothly as I'd have liked. And thanks to the towels you see at the top of the page, I am ok with that.

Those folded towels changed my life in early September.

When I've been used to partnership and two adults carrying the load financially, physically,  mentally and emotionally for close to 14 years and I have to deal with it slowly peeling away; it is hard. It is exhausting. It is sad. But it is also frustrating. My instinct is to resist.

And in the midst of all the changes in life, you want some things to stay the same. Like the towels.

OH - but there is where I found life. Letting go of what was and accepting what is. Empowering others to chip in and accept that help without judgement.  Those "folded" towels and my ability to put them away without refolding them marked a new era in my life.

Not so long ago, I would have refolded them without a word and put them away. But not only would that have been bad for me but the message to the folks who folded them would have been that their contribution was good, but not good enough. It was physically painful to put them away as is and I laughed and giggled all the way to the pantry.

Since then, the dust in the corner doesn't bother me as much. The unpacked boxes from our May move don't nag at me at all. When I'm a few minutes late to pick up a kid, I don't sweat it. Eating Pizza Hut twice in one week elicits a shrug. Quilted Northern on sale versus Charmin Ultra Soft - nah - that's where I draw the line but you get the point.

We have entered the era  of "good enough." And my sanity is thankful.