“If you rest, you rust.”–Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr

“If you rest, you rust.”–Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr

Productivity and efficiency are both such attractive topics to me. I love the idea that work can always be done better. And, I know people who are both more productive and more efficient than I am, proving it can be done.

In my notebook I have anonymous quotes that caught my eye:

“He had no wasted motion.”

“Things happened coming and going.”

In many ways I have been afraid of rest (and rust). I don’t like to waste time. Rest often seems like a waste and can look very lazy to others as well.

However, I have found in practice that always trying to do things as fast as possible is very stressful for me. I prefer to relax and enjoy what I am doing rather than race against time or a schedule. My temperament is high strung and anxious. Doing things quickly, under stress, is actually less productive for me.

For example, I stress to pack the family for the trip to Disney, we rush out the door to leave at the appointed time, and one hour into the journey I remember the tickets are home.

When overly stressed I forget things, lose or misplace important items, and sometimes lose my patience when a more paced procedure would actually save me time.

I now think that rest is important for all people. We need to punctuate times of high stress and activity with low stress and rest periods. But, especially if you are high strung like I am, the counterintuitive slow method might actually work better for you.

The navy seals have a saying that “slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.” This is a different way to look at efficiency.

But, how do you go slowly and still do things fast? I am not sure I have the answer to that question. Many tasks seem to take as much time as you give them. And, I have never been good at estimating time.

Ways that do work for me:

I set my own deadlines early with a couple of days grace period in case I get behind or life surprises me. That extra planned cushion relieves stress and allows me to focus on a task without the distraction of worry.

I plan in larger chunks of time with fewer transitions. I have never done well with a minute by minute schedule. It makes me feel like a robot with no freedom, and if anyone even speaks to me it ends up making me late like dominos all throughout the day. I want to talk to people. I want to be a person who has time for other people. I feel the world is harsh enough without all of us too busy to even be human to each other. I don’t feel like myself when a routine task seems to be more important than a precious person. This is a personal value betrayal. So, I have to have grace time within my life if at all possible.

There is an old latin phrase, “festina lente” which means to hurry slowly. I like that.

I like being the hare not the tortoise. So I need to pace my pulses and pauses in such a way that I’m not too active or too slow for too long. Like setting the wavelength of a beautiful wave, I think each pattern might be individual. My husband, for example, likes a steady pace (and he usually will beat me).

So, I’m giving myself permission to not only rest, but trust myself that I will get up and go. I do. I enjoy working hard and making a difference every day. I am thankful for that motivation.

I just can’t run off so fast that my rest is a collapse. Instead, I am going to practice hurrying slowly.

Namaste,

DarEll S. Hoskisson

8/29/22

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Priorities

Priorities

Priorities

I'm free to be me
and like it or not
I'm boss of myself
whether I have a boss or not

And when my life's all
said and done
I hope my family will
know the one

they call "wife" and "mom"
loved them more than all the rest.
I hope they'll know
I gave them my very best.

At work or church there are others
that might do just as well
but nobody else 
my stories can tell

No one else sings
with my voice lullabies
or holds them close 
to look at them with my eyes

No one else can be me for them
Though they have a new wife,
a new mother, or new friends.  

DSH  12/06
             

Beets Mom

This year for Mothers’ Day, my youngest son gave me a hand written, colorful note.

It says, “Happy Mothers Day. The best moms teach yoga!” I laughed and had to share it with my yoga class. Thank heavens I teach yoga or else, how could I be the best mom?

Best, Beets–They are about the same thing and this year my thoughts on Moms went straight for that vegetable. The week before Mother’s day I found in the grocery store the largest, most beautiful fresh beets I’d ever seen. They were large and had big red and green stems that were leafy, not wilted and looked very fresh.

I bought them and prepared them for dinner. I thought they were wonderful, but most of my children did not appreciate them at all. In fact, it is a good thing I like them because I’m still eating left-overs.

I think beets are the best symbol for a good mom. They might not always have the most attractive skin, but they are good for you and wonderful. All the beauty they have inside colors everything they do. My hands were red from the contact for two days. The water they cooked in was red. A gentle, unintentional influence. So, so beautiful and natural and nutritious.

So, maybe yoga is the best, but this year for me, beets beat all as the symbol for the Mom I want to be (whether the children recognize it’s beauty, it’s value, or it’s significance or not.)

“Life is the real sport” –Annia Reyes

It is not getting everything done first,

Trophy

Trophy (Photo credit: cole24_)

or winning a big race.

It is not comparing yourself

or beating another’s pace.

It is not killing yourself

to keep a spotless house,

overscheduled and overwhelmed,

putting pressure on your spouse.

Working too hard is just as bad

as lazy, lethargic waste.

Keeping the big picture firmly in my mind,

the truth must be faced

That life IS now,

the journey.

and so if I constantly

overshedule and hurry,

I will lose in life along the way.

Others will not feel I care

or take the time to talk.

I may not even be there

for the ones that need me most

for intimate, quiet times

for simple, homemade meals together

for lullabies and nursery rhymes.

© 2013 DarEll S. Hoskisson

The quote above I attribute to my most awesome first pilates teacher, Annia Reyes.  It is quite possible that others have said it before her and if you know of another the quote originally came from, you can please let me know.

I quote it here because to me it is such a perfect reminder of what we are trying to WIN at, and that often it is not what I think will make me happy that does.

Today I find myself overscheduled.  Yet, I still try to fit everything in, including writing my poem today.  In the big picture, I should have let it go, it is overstressing my life.  But, I find, even knowing better I can not resist the temptation to try to get 100% of my goal to write a poem each day this month.

And so, I have determined in the future to write my goals more specifically and with a range of success that leaves room for honestly living my priorities and not over-stressing my self or my family.  See my post Consistent for more thoughts on how it might be done.  –dsh

Just Meet It!

I wish that cars didn’t break down

that we didn’t always have to eat

that sleep was totally optional and

all frustrating, annoying, and expensive

obstacles would just disappear.

I would wish away my physicals

and skip the appointments, too

fillings would be the first to go

then ironing and moping floors

battling moldy tile grout

an aging, leaky house

bugs and dirt

calories and weight

Dirty diapers, runny noses

whiney, fighting kids.

I’d wish it all over.

Maybe I could finally win.

Something might stay done.

Everyone would be happy at the same time.

Object permanence.

But, NOT POSSIBLE!

I’d wish away the very things of life

there’d be no transportation

no child’s laugh or cry

no gooey, chocolate chip cookies

or a sparkling sink with running water.

The challenges are the price of life

I must stop expecting myself to beat

And instead accept their presence

and each one simply meet.

© 2013 DarEll S. Hoskisson (dsh)

A cure for bad dreams: Mary Poppins Pockets

My son is about 5 and a half years old.  The last six months he’s been waking up with bad dreams.  Each of my children seemed to have this problem at one time or another.

To help my daughter with it, I made up Mary Poppins Pockets.

I explained how dreams came from our imagination and the next time she was dreaming, she could reach into her pocket and pull out a .  . .

I had her tell me what it was that was scaring her in her dreams.

A big bug?  What do you want to pull out of your pocket?  A huge can of bug spray?  Daddy’s shoe?  A huge fly swatter?

We had a lot of fun imagining the weapons she would bring out to knock out the scariest terrors dreams can dream up.

They are called “Mary Poppins” pockets

English: Screenshot of Julie Andrews from the ...

Image via Wikipedia

because just like the Disney movie Mary Poppins who has a magical bag with no bottom, they can imagine pulling really big things as many as they need right out of their pockets with an endless supply.

It gives them a way to share all the scary things and a fun way for me to help them prepare for battle.  The pockets were quite successful at helping her sleep through the night, so I tried it with my son.

So far, since I taught him about his pockets, he’s been sleeping well again.

© 2012 DarEll S. Hoskisson (dsh)

Identity Crisis?

English: Ordinary hexagonal dendrite snowflake...

Image via Wikipedia

I was just talking to a friend of mine today.

She went through a divorce, had to start over with nothing, and found herself trying to get to know herself all over again.

Finding myself has been a personal passion partly because meeting the needs around me makes me sort of cameleon-like.  What is really me?  What is just responding to circumstances?  I like to bring a smile to others if I can.  In fact, that is why I’m writing this.  In case I can brighten your day or give you hope if you are in the same situation.

I found myself particularly lost when my youngest went to kindergarten.  The years of being Mom left just DarEll for several hours per day and I wasn’t sure who that was anymore.  I was afraid I hadn’t seen her for a long, long time.

Two books especially helped me on my way:  One was Becoming Real by Gail Saltz and the other was The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.

They each give ideas and instructions on how to find your own voice and be more true to yourself.

Most of all, it takes a little faith that we can know what is best for ourselves, that we can trust ourselves, and that we are not responsible for everyone else’s happiness.

I was afraid that I’d hurt people by letting myself be me.  I was very restrictive to myself and what I wanted to do.  Some of it had been necessary when my children were small, really were dependent on me and funds were tight.  But, it wasn’t true now.

I had to give myself permission to buy something just for me.  Do something just because I enjoyed it.  It was a suprisingly difficult adjustment.  But, I’m proud to say that I am very much better at caring for myself and I hope you will find the strength to give yourself permission to be you, too.

It is okay to make mistakes while we find our way.  If you feel that everything in your life that ever happens is all your fault, or everyone thinks it is, you may have codependency going on.  Sometimes I liked to believe I had that much power because then I could also have the power to change and fix things.  But, I never will have the power to make other people happy.  That is their choice.  I have to let that dream go.

You are worth finding.  There is only one person like you in the whole world.  We need each snow-flake.

© 2012 DarEll S. Hoskisson (dsh)

No Matter What

Mothers, you shouldn’t have to see
your son’s great agony.

Mothers, you shouldn’t have to know
your son has nowhere else to go.

Mothers, you should never see
your hand-cuffed son–no longer free,

and Mothers, may you never see
his lifeless body.

Mothers, can all the pain be real?
What’s the point    to feel?

No, not the joy you planned.
Yet, somehow you stand.

–Somehow you stand.

Mothers, you’ve already won.
You love your son.

Yes, Mothers, he belongs to you.
Your love is true
–Will always be true.

© 2012 DarEll S. Hoskisson (dsh)