On Limits
It has taken you some time to realize that you don't have to do everything--that you shouldn't. You knew your heart would sing at the thought of doing less and yet, when you cleared your time, you found yourself filling it back up again, like adding bricks to a wall you had just been trying to take down. Before you knew it, you were walled in again, your life a series of activities at break-neck speed. You were moving so fast you didn't even know it.
Then one moment you stopped and looked around and realized that even in your attempts to do less, you had cluttered your days with things to do, business things and recreational things and healing things, but nowhere did you leave room to breathe.
And so began your task: to set limits. You could let go of this and that event, that one extra little task or the squeezed in errand. You watched each of these unnecessary activities fade away until you were left--blissfully left--with only blocks of unstructured time to breathe, to let your mind wander, to leisurely complete one task.
In finding these limits, you found your expansiveness, your memories of a life that is more than just one thing after another. It is a series of delicious experiences and wild musing, rich lessons and always, always pockets of pleasure that can only be plundered when there is unfilled space--time to simply be.