Resigning from Things

I got an email yesterday from Seattle Coffee Girl, which apropos of nothing, asked where I was on the liturgy book I finished writing a whole way long time ago. Hi. That would be one of the more classic examples of how out of whack my priorities have gotten. I haven't done a lick on it, even though there are only about 3 chapters left to edit. I haven't even thought about presses that might be interested in such a thing. (SCG, in her inimitable style, sent me links to about half a dozen this morning, including submission guidelines).

The point is, that things like book projects and building my business and general attentiveness to my family have all been swamped by meetings and fundraising and other obligations that have absolutely no bearing, at all, on anything to which I am truly committed. I've hinted at all this recently and was working my way out of it but this weekend it all came to a head.

I'll spare you the details because, well, frankly I know how you are. You'll get all outraged on my behalf and pledge to form arse kicking squads and all that. Which is always nice but I'm over the anger and don't need to feed into it anymore. Suffice to say that the frickety frakkety rummage sale was an even bigger waste of time and emotional energy than expected. Also, for the record, sometimes other people are soooooo stoopid.

By the time it was all over I sat, looked at my life and said, "Whoa, Nelly".

My poor, bedraggled little priorities are sitting huddled in a corner, begging for a crust of bread. They kinda look like the waif children that the Ghost of Christmas Future pulls out of his cloak when he's messing with Ebenezer Scrooge's weak mind. My priorities need to be given a nice hot bath, pulled up to the table and fed a warm, nutritious meal. I think fried okra and applesauce cake should be involved.

I'm usually the sort of person who is very clear about my limits and not afraid to say "no". I'm also usually pretty good at listening to my instincts. But once in a while I'll talk myself out of or into something because the instinct itself doesn't make immediate sense. Let me tell you, in the course of my life, there has never been a time when my gut feeling about something was wrong. Nev. Er. It doesn't matter if it doesn't compute at the time, I should trust it.

After this weekend I was more sure than ever that the rut I was in owed in large part to being over committed to things outside my passion and enough was enough. So.

A) I resigned from the PTA board. I loved working with the other board members and feel really good about what we accomplished. But I was beginning to get sucked into the inevitable politics of being in a leadership role. When the nitpicking starts to matter (and I should stress that the nitpicking was coming from outside the group), when I find myself getting stressed about things I can't do anything about, that's a good sign that I've been at something too long. I wanted to get out before I burned out because I love love love The Child's school and want to be able to continue being a booster.

2) We decided that The Child is not going to go to DC in the spring. There are a ton of reasons, any one of which is cause enough. But primarily, the fundraising is taking way way way too much time...time that she needs to be spending on the tours/exams/application process involved with high school. And, because of the way the fundraising is going, I've become really concerned that after all this time and effort the parents are still going to be on the hook for a portion of the costs. Her trip to France this summer is far more important than spending a week in DC with a bunch of princesses and little kings in the company of their over-protective and insular parents. (Did I say that out loud? Oops). I love the east coast and would like her first trip back there to be full of fun and adventure...like mine was. That trustworthy gut of mine tells me that this particular trip would be anything but.

And how's she doing with all this? At first she was hesitant about the finality of the decision. (We had discussed the possibility but that's not the same). Golly, she is such a game kid...up for anything, even if it means that she's going to be surrounded by poo-heads. She had good questions and offered suggestions, though never actually pleading to still go on the trip. Then I suggested that perhaps we can arrange for The Godmom to schedule their trip to southern California (read, Disneyland) during that week. Or that maybe she and P can do something special while the other kids are gone.

Who is P, you ask?

That would be the other kid in the class whose family has decided that the Bravo Sierra around this trip wasn't worth it and pulled out earlier than we did.

Anyway, as soon as she realized that there were other opportunities for adventure besides DC she was downright jiggy with it. It was never about the specifics for her and all about the thrill of going and doing.

And moi? I am so lighthearted today that I've had to lash myself to my chair in order to write this post. In fact, I feel a song coming on:




Jimmy Cliff "I Can See Clearly Now"