The last three nights in a row I have been unable to fall asleep very easily. And I know exactly why that is. It’s because I have fifty million and seven details whirring around and around AND around, trying to find purchase and ascend from thought, to action, to completion.
I am, and always have been, one to repeat the mantra, “One thing at a time.” “One day at a time.” “One task at a time.” Register, follow through, complete. Comprehend, tally forth, finish. Realize, plan, execute. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I am holding myself, rather forcefully, to that mindset. FORCING myself to be calm – this false, fragile calm that is staggering in its pretense. This calm that is more the stillness of a prey animal when faced with a sky full of talons. This calm that is the fake calm of having it all under control, which precedes the REAL calm that I will, hopefully, feel at about mid-way next week, when the concept of a summer vacation actually manages to sink into my over-revved brain.
Because you can’t operate for seven years at 15,000 RPM and expect to ramp down to idle in a day.