A family is an emotional system.
Anxiety reverberates all over it. Nobody is protected from it.
That’s the beauty and the challenge of the thing.

It’s been hard, having R operating in a lower gear this week. I’ve said many times here and elsewhere that we don’t have much of a buffer in our lives. Our life, with two careers and three kids and two cats in the yard, works great (beautifully, even) when everything is functioning. But when the daycare provider is sick, or a major appliance breaks, there’s not enough slack in the rope.

R used to do IT consulting with accountant types and he said that some of the most capable ones he knew lived right up to the line. So for example, a guy he used to do work for had a live-in housekeeper and a great deal of financial success, but if a major unexpected computer purchase came up, he’d sometimes have to put it off for a week or two because of the cash flow. They’re not being haphazard, exactly, R said. They just calibrate things with such precision, that’s all. But that can get them in trouble.

Because life doesn’t calibrate like that.

I know this, because I do the same thing with my time.

I live a very organized, effective life, and I use every tool at my disposal. I am like the David Allen disciple from hell. He says, “If you have something important that can be done in two minutes, you should do it when you think about it. Just get it behind you so it’s not sapping any more of your psychic energy.”

So I do this. A lot.

But this gets me in trouble when I don’t protect my shut-down time.

And it also gets us all in trouble when my partner in life is out of commission. I strive to be a yes-and person but sometimes the space between the Yes and the And is way too long. And in that space, I pout, throw a pity party, I stew, I even get crazy enough to envy a person with shingles because I sure would love an excuse to slow down every now and then.

Insane.

And then I get my act together. And I remember what I know for sure: that the harder thing is actually the easier thing… that it’s much easier in the long run to yes-and, and to be playful with my kids when things get intense, and to laugh stuff off, because then they laugh and are playful and soon this conscious decision to just Be Okay With It has actually led me to feel Really Okay.

Because you can behave yourself into a new way of feeling.

All of this came out of a conversation with R earlier this week, but it was solidified by a dream I had that night in which R was diffusing a nuclear bomb and he told me and the kids to run away and he stayed behind but the bomb went off and we barely escaped and had to drive to this remote inn with only the clothes on our back… and until I knew R’s whereabouts I had to do my best to put a brave face on this for the sake of my kids, not in a denial sort of way, but in a keep-on-keeping-on kind of way. And then we were finally able to go home but R wasn’t there, and we still didn’t know what had become of him, but it was Christmastime and we had to make do with what was in our house, so I was looking everywhere for stuff that could work as presents for the kids, because at that moment in time it was just about surviving and finding joy as best we could.

Yes… not very subtle, my subconscious.

About the photo: Recently The Sun magazine had a photo essay of people doing art. I cut out several and hung them up in the blue room. Most were of adults but I liked this one of a little girl. I added the caption; see this short video from Gretchen Rubin for some context on the sentiment.