Who would you be without that stressful thought? Sleeping.

sleep, silence, quiet, eyes closed….sometimes it’s simple

I am sooooo thrilled about starting the Eating Peace Process today with a small vibrant group of inquirers.

Everyone in the group receives the first presentation today (or any time in the next several days).

It has meant a ton of prep work. For me.

The Eating Peace Retreat also happens this coming Thursday right here in Seattle. Which involves 12 hour days with the amazing people who come here to do this work in person for 3 full days. (Remind me next time not to start them both at the same time).

This email is not about announcing these programs–you already know about them and I’ve probably done that enough by now.

I’m here writing now because….the ton of work. Noticing my stressful thoughts about these tasks.

My neck was aching, my eyeballs were hurting from staring at the computer screen or concentrating on creating my keynote presentations. I stayed up until 1:00 am two nights in a row I was so excited I guess.

I even had a local event only 2 nights ago in the middle of this planning and creating time, doing The Work with folks in Seattle at the marvelous East West Bookstore on eating issues.

I was there, rather than working on my Eating Peace Process Presentations. (There’s a lot of ‘P’s in these titles, I know).

Things got a little backed up. As in, tightly scheduled with a wedge and a hammer. No down time, no free time.

Have you ever had things wildly scheduled so close together you’re not sure you’re going to have time to breathe?

So even with all that going on, I’m here. Because. Thoughts.

Is it true, I need to WORK WORK WORK (picture sort of matronly looking nun clapping her hands and saying chop-chop)?

Um….yeah. Who else is gonna do it?

Can you absolutely know it’s true, you need to keep at it until you drop? Are you SURE you must push past the point of neck aches and a hot meal (speaking of eating peace)?

No.

I’m remembering Byron Katie musing about sitting at her computer, looking at 200 emails, and knowing she didn’t have to answer any of them if she couldn’t or life moved in another direction.

Nothing’s actually required here.

How do you react when you think you have to stick with something until it’s finished?

Kind of like a dog who can’t let go of a bone, or a squeaky toy. Jaw lock down. Like the sound of high revolutions, the way it sounds when you push hard on the gas pedal without being in gear on a stick shift. LOUD WHIRRING. Neglecting softness.

Sigh.

I just took a spontaneous very deep breath here, as I wrote.

Who would you be without your story of chop-chop stiff-upper-lip discipline high-rev don’t-take-a-break?

I’d drink a big glass of delicious water and go to bed.

Pretty much, right now.

Ahhhhhh.

Good night.

“We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”

~ William Shakespeare

Much love,

Grace