Fall officially arrives this Tuesday.
Usually, this is the time of year when life begins to slow down a little. The garden is winding down, the days are getting shorter, the evenings get darker earlier, and before long, the cozy pull of a blanket and a good book becomes much stronger than the motivation to get one more thing done.
And I don’t know about you, but when it gets dark earlier, I’m ready for bed earlier too.
Except this year, I’m not sure life is going to slow down.
Not this fall. Maybe not even this winter.
There is just a lot going on in this chapter.
Lately, I’ve found myself thinking, I need another eight hours in my day.
Eight more hours to work, clean the house, take care of the garden, take care of the chickens, dogs and cat, spend time with family and friends, keep up with Rooted in This Chapter, run a book club, and still somehow find time to take care of myself.
And that’s the part I’ve been struggling with the most.
This year I’ve been trying to make myself a priority, too. I’ve been working on healthier eating, weight loss, exercise and self-care. I’ve been trying to make changes that will hopefully help me feel better and become healthier as I move through this chapter of my life.
But sometimes adding something else to the list makes it feel impossible.
Because where exactly am I supposed to find another hour?
Maybe the answer isn’t more time.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.
Maybe I don’t actually need more time.
Maybe I need to change the way I’m using the time I already have.
My health coach has reminded me of this more than once. When I don’t have an hour to set aside for a workout, I need to remember that movement doesn’t only happen when I’m standing in front of a treadmill or following a workout video.
Cleaning the house is movement.
Working in the garden is movement.
Cleaning out the chicken coop is movement.
Carrying things, walking around the yard, doing chores, taking care of the animals — that’s all movement, too.
And that thought has changed the way I’m looking at my days.
Instead of waiting for the perfect hour to appear, I’m trying to notice the little pieces of time that are already there.
I’ve even created a movement schedule for my workday where I’m getting up from my desk every hour. Sometimes I’ll stretch. Sometimes I’ll walk. Sometimes I’ll do a few minutes of an exercise.
It isn’t an hour-long workout.
But it’s movement.
And it’s something I can actually fit into the life I’m living right now.
What if I did that with everything else?
This is where my brain has started going lately.
If I can break movement into little pieces, maybe I can do the same thing with the rest of my never-ending list.
Maybe cleaning the house doesn’t have to mean spending an entire Saturday cleaning.
Maybe Monday can be floors.
Tuesday can be dusting.
Wednesday can be laundry.
Maybe one room gets a little attention each evening instead of expecting myself to keep the entire house perfectly clean all the time.
Maybe I can spend part of my lunch break checking on the garden or spending a few minutes with the chickens.
Maybe writing for Rooted in This Chapter doesn’t always have to mean sitting down for two uninterrupted hours. Maybe I can write a little when I have a little time.
Maybe everything doesn’t have to have its own dedicated block of time.
Maybe I can fit more of my life into the time I already have.
And maybe that’s the part I’ve been missing.
Because I don’t want to spend all my time getting things done.
This one is important.
I don’t want to turn every spare five minutes into another task.
I don’t want my entire life to become a giant productivity project where every minute has to accomplish something.
I need time for me, too.
Time to take care of myself.
Time to sit with my family.
Time to see friends.
Time to curl up with the dogs and a good book.
Time to breathe.
Time to do nothing at all.
Those things aren’t wasted time.
They’re part of my life.
And I think that’s where giving myself grace comes in.
I’ve spent a lot of time feeling like I’m failing when I don’t get everything done.
But maybe I’m not failing.
Maybe I’m simply asking one day to hold more than one day can reasonably hold.
There will always be laundry.
There will always be something that needs cleaned.
The garden will always have something that needs attention.
The chickens will still need their coop cleaned.
The dogs and cat will still expect dinner.
There will always be another blog post, another book club, another project and another thing waiting on my list.
Life is full.
And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
I just need to learn how to live inside the fullness of it.
So, as we move into fall, I’m not going to wait for life to slow down before I take care of myself.
I’m not going to wait for a magical extra hour to appear before I exercise.
I’m not going to beat myself up because the whole house didn’t get cleaned today.
I’m going to look at the time I already have and figure out how to use it differently.
A few minutes here.
A little movement there.
One chore tonight.
A little time in the garden at lunch.
A few pages of a book before bed.
A conversation with someone I love.
And sometimes, absolutely nothing.
Because maybe the goal isn’t to somehow squeeze every last thing into my day.
Maybe the goal is to decide what matters, make room for it in the life I’m actually living, and let the rest wait when it needs to.
We are all busy.
Life is full.
And I’m learning that I don’t need to wait for it to become less full before I take care of myself.
I can take care of myself right here.
Right now.
In this chapter.
With the time I already have.
Until next Sunday,
Kristen
