Locate the Escape Hatch

I'm not sure what brings it on. I just know that when it starts to happen, I have to have a clear view of my escape hatch, to get out of my head, and out of my thinking.

For the past few weeks, my life has been a whirlwind. September is always filled with new beginnings and old routines. The structure of school is a welcome relief by the time summer holidays flicker away into our memories. The re-emergence of extra curricular activities fills the calendar to bursting capacity. The added excitement of my new job has increased the speed of the slipping away of the days and weeks of the month. Throw in one teenage daughter's wisdom tooth surgery, including a week of recovery (and zero pain tolerance!), another daughter's bout with strep throat, my son's insistence on joining every fall sport that school offers, kids' work schedules, and it's a wonder that there were even enough hours in September to accommodate the load.

The motive for my writing today, however, is not sympathy. It's not for pity. We are all parents with busy schedules and full lives. Today is about coping. It's about not letting the load become too heavy. I tend to let that happen, much too often. My head becomes so full of what I should be doing, what needs to be done, and what I happen to be doing at the moment, that it is easy to allow system meltdown and ultimately nothing getting done. This is when I need the escape hatch.

I need to escape to that place of being still. I need to remember exactly what makes me happy. I need to find those things that give me peace. Sometimes, it's as simple as going for a run. It could be reading a book, going to dance class, sitting in the sun on my back patio, talking to a friend on the phone, writing on my blog. Whatever it is, I don't have to explain why to anyone but me. I just do it.

I have to remember that although the big things give each of us those much-needed euphoric highs, it is how I walk through each day that really matters. As long as I know where the escape hatch is.

Note to self: When I am having trouble finding the handle on that escape hatch, don't watch Grey's Anatomy, mourning the loss of George; don't try to pay my bills; and don't attempt to finish my almost-due school long range plans.