It’s a fine Monday morning! Spring is finally here! The sun is shining. Green things are peeking out from everywhere. Birds are singing. And there are a thousand and one things I would rather be doing than sitting in front of my work computer. I am truly grateful that I at least work from home and can step outside from time to time to smell the sweet earthy air, but I feel a struggle inside of me as I sit here that has become all too familiar – I call it the back-to-work blues.
It goes like this: all day I feel distracted and anxious, like I’m not sure what I should be doing. My mind can’t seem to focus on the work in front of me; it keeps wandering out the back door. I remind myself to take a deep breath, just to stay present, just to keep from screaming!
What the heck is wrong with me?
Looking back, I had a great weekend: I danced Friday night at the studio. Saturday I taught salsa lessons in the morning and went out for Mexican food with my brother’s family. Sunday, I visited my son at college (we went out for lunch at Bub’s). I took a nap in the afternoon and danced at the Indiana Roof Ballroom that evening with friends. I should have been ready to come back to work, refreshed and renewed, but I wasn’t! In fact I felt worse off than when I’d closed down my work station on Friday!
The trouble with weekend time off is that I allow myself to get distracted by future possibilities.
What isn’t apparent in the list above is that this past weekend; I attended those two dances to network with people who might want to take lessons. I handed out five business cards. I downloaded 45 new ballroom songs and began sorting them into a portable music library on my Kindle. I watched some videos to improve my teaching skills, updated my blog’s “About” page and added four new blog ideas to my over flowing list of future topics – if I only had the time to write all of the posts jockeying for position in my brain….
You see, when I’m not working at my primary job, I’m free to focus on the job I’m building for my future. I read inspired writers and make plans for where I’m heading. I set goals and identify action items. On a not-too-busy weekend, I might even make some real headway on meeting some of those goals. This has been happening a lot lately, which is a really good thing, but it can also make it harder to return to work come Monday.
What I feel on Mondays like this is nothing short of resistance.
There’s resistance because I’m afraid of losing momentum and not finding my way back to where I was in my creative flow. My focus feels divided, no matter how hard I try to pull it toward the work at hand.
There’s resistance because I’m forcing myself to do things I’m not really interested in. I feel like a two-year old being made to sit still and put together a puzzle when she would really rather dance around the room with her hair flying wild.
There’s resistance because deep down I feel guilty for not caring about what I’m spending my time doing. It feels all wrong.
What I know about resistance… it is a moment when we get to practice allowance. We do this in yoga…a lot… when we ask our body to expand, to stretch and become more open. If we are aware of what is happening, we can do this with our whole being. Opportunities to surrender bring growth, and allow us to become more than we currently imagine of ourselves.
For creative types…, sometimes…, who we get to be on the weekends doesn’t always match up with who we need to be come Monday morning. That makes Monday a tender time – a time when we have to show a lot of patience and compassion for ourselves. Our situation can only be helped with awareness. To become aware of WHY we feel burdened, frustrated or blues-y about Mondays allows us to choose how we handle that. Once we see resistance for what it really is, we can put it into perspective. The resistance I have is all about the fear that “it” might not happen, that I might be relegated forever to this compromise. I may not L-O-V-E my current position, but I love what it affords me: an opportunity to experience “ALL BILLS PAID” while I build a career as a dance instructor. I remind myself, it is happening, slowly, but surely, it is. I know without a doubt that my work situation is changing. I’m asking a lot more of myself and the stretch can be painful at times. I have to remember to breath, to relax and allow the shifting landscape of my life to unfold with grace and ease.