The peace that follows

Cute, but impractical — you won’t be able to lift those barrels. (Image by lumix2004)

It’s been a busy few weeks.

We launched the last round of The Marketing Seminar. I launched the next round of my Business Strategy Group.

I finally sat down and booked travel and accommodations for a conference I had registered for for back in May.

Meanwhile, I started work with a few new clients.

I have been intensely focused and organized. It was the only way that I was going to be able to do everything I needed to do and also eat and sleep adequately.

When I’ve been under stress like this, it takes me a few days to recognize the moment when it’s no longer necessary.

I’m so busy running that I don’t notice that the predator that was chasing me through the woods has lost my trail.

The storm that pulled at the roof shingles and brought down tree limbs has passed. But while rain has stopped and the wind has died, I’m still inside, hunkered down.

As the urgency of my to-do list declines and the number of items on it dwindles, I begin to expand my awareness. I finally recognize that nothing’s chasing me and there is no threat. I can relax. I can step out into the sunshine.

I do like a fairly high baseline of activity. I like to be busy and stimulated. However, I require ebbs and flows.

So while I will miss the intensity of the past few weeks, I know I need a recovery period. And I was a bit surprised to discover, upon reflection, that I don’t want to launch anything new until January.

January! That is so far away. But I’m not in a hurry. Again, nothing is chasing me. I don’t have to add anything to my plate. All I need to do is maintain the status quo.

It’s a strange and unfamiliar thing. I’ve been running three businesses for three years — and actually, there were four in there for a little while — and for much of that time, we were in crisis mode due to Covid. There was never a point at which I could stand back and say, “This is working just fine as it is.”

I don’t want that for myself, but I got so used to it during the hardest parts of the pandemic that my instinct was to just keep going. I have had to deliberately and painfully question my assumptions and dismantle what I had built in order to escape that cycle.

And now, much of that work has been done. There’s still a mess to clean up — we’ve got to take the boards off of the windows and pick up the broken branches, so to speak — but there is now peace. And stability, which is something new.

I can see how I could begin to get bored by the peace and stability and mess it up. I’ve done it before. I’m sure I will again. But I’d like to choose new and interesting adventures, not just chaos or busy-ness for its own sake.

And for now, I want to revel in this moment of relative tranquility and ease. My friend Charlotte, who helps people tune into natural cycles, reminded us that the equinox is at hand. Here in the northern hemisphere that is a time of harvest and preparation for winter. Having done much of that work already, I get to slow down now.

As for you, how intense is your pace? Is it sustainable, and do you intend to sustain it? What signs are you looking for that the coast is clear and you can relax?

It may be your moment to plant seeds or tend your garden. It may be your moment to reap. It may be your time to lie fallow and rest. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you can find satisfaction in it. This season won’t last forever.