More often than not, I get so caught up in trying to make things work -- in life, in writing -- that I forget to slow down, take a breath, and recognize what's happening around me. I get swept up in the chaos of more more more, hurry hurry hurry that I don't realize that while I'm forging forward toward something else, I'm missing moments now.
Cue lightbulb moment number one: The present is important. When it feels like my exhaustion is permanent, and that the stress and work is nonstop, I have to remind myself to tap the brakes. Don't rush through things; sit in the moment. Acclimate to it (even if it's uncomfortable).
Cue lightbulb moment number two: Surviving isn't enough for me. When my anxiety gets bad, which it has been for the past week and a half, I have to remember to seek out things I love. It's extra energy and effort, but happiness is worth it. Surviving the day isn't the ultimate goal, though sometimes that's all I can focus on. I want to find something significant to smile about. Usually, I find it in a book, or in my writing.
And, speaking of writing, let's talk about that a little more. Because I've mentioned it a thousand times already, but it's worth reiterating again and again until I start to fully practice what I preach. I love writing, and even if I get only enough time to write a chapter, my time feels well spent. I feel fulfilled. But writing is hard, so sometimes on my days off I forget to sit down and chip away at my current work in progress because when things aren't clicking, I flounder. But when it goes right...