too damn muchOhmahgah.

You know when your eyes are bigger than your stomach? When you overcommit? When you stagger under the weight of the thing you just publicly declared you were going to do?

No?

You don’t know that thing?

Of course not.

But let me explain to you that to the rest of us, this happens sometimes. We mere mortals, we are kind of a mess.

The first sign that this has happened is usually that you find yourself walking around dragging your knuckles on the ground, moaning, and then bursting into angry tears when someone asks you something like “So how are the donuts in this part of Portland?”

And guess what? I totally did that, you guys. Yup! Master life coach, Queen Sweeping expert, essentialism devotee moi– I mean I just FLATTENED myself.

See, I had this great idea. I was going to personally interview every single one of the 50+ women who applied for the EFBA Mentorship! I would get to know them! We would talk it over and decide whether they were a good fit for the program! I would give them things to think about before we got started! I would have a deeper understanding of what they needed this coming year! I would know their tender insides and love them with all my heart!

And it was, indeed, a great idea.

I’m so glad that I did it.

I fucking ADORE these women.

It’s going to make our year together THAT much more amazing.

Aaaaaaaand

ohmygodiamsoexhausted.

I feel like I should have little perforated holes in me. I am basically swiss cheese. There should be little indentations on my face where the life force has seeped out of me.

Turns out, 50+ calls is too many to squeeze into three weeks…on top of my regular coaching schedule…while traveling internationally.  Turns out, 19 calls in a week will absolutely pulverize this introverted sensitive mystic. Turns out, DUH with a side of OBVIOUS.

So what do you do when you realize you’ve totally fucked yourself, and not in the good way we talked about last week?

Well, first you cry. Obviously. And then you beat yourself up for a little bit. (You are welcome to skip that part, though I usually cannot.) Maybe you drink too much, or you buy a pretty thing you don’t need, or you fall apart in the grocery store. JUST HYPOTHETICALLY, folks. But then you make a cup of tea, and put your tiara on, and you do what needs to be done.

This part is not fun, but you can do it. And it will give you so much relief, loves.

Toss all the ballast overboard. All non-essential tasks must GO. At my house, this means lots and lots of frozen pizza. Also, showering is definitely optional.

Apologize to your loved ones. Trust me on this one.

Double up on the self care. Yes, even though you definitely do not have time for it. Schedule a massage. Go to bed at 8pm. Listen to that cheesy spa piano music that embarrasses your girlfriend. Meditate for three minutes, if that’s what you can manage. (Hey, it was three minutes more than I did last week!) Buy yourself flowers. Do whatever you can to put yourself in the way of beauty, and then slurp it up with every bit of your being.

But here is the main thing you must do.

Everyone I know, including myself, would rather do almost anything rather than this one.

Brace yourself.

My dearest sweethearts, you must take some things off your plate. This is hard. I know. You have so many delicious and necessary and important things on your plate. And if you want to enjoy a single bite of your life, you must get rid of some of them.

Readjust. Course correct. Change it up. Survey the scene and move forward accordingly. For me, this meant radically recalibrating my coaching load for next year. I realized that I can coach like a mofo, and I can write like a mofo, but I simply cannot do both. And so I had some hard choices to make.

I did not like those choices. They mean less money in the budget for sparkly things and plane tickets and beautiful dinners. They mean a certain degree of financial risk.

But I made them anyway.

It stung. It was embarrassing. It was disappointing.

But I survived…and next year, I’m still working with an amazing group of amazing women… but my calendar, it has white space in it. Sweet sweet writing hours. And sweet sweet massage hours. And sweet sweet hours in which to dream up new things.

So there you go, guys– keep trying new things. Some of them will work. Some of them will chew you up and spit you out.

But remember what EFBAs do? They tell the truth, and don’t give up.

And I’m a little ragged around the edges, but I’m going to be just fine. I bet you are too.

Tomorrow, I’m going to say no words at all. I’m going to do a little meditative silent retreat and it will be very spiritual and holy and it will definitely involve watching superspiritual holy silent meditative retreat things like episodes of Nashville.

much love,
Anna

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My secret mission is a global takeover by the wise women. Gathering together to bond over literature seems like the perfect place to start.
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