I bookmarked this article--Why We Humblebrag About Being Busy--from the Harvard Business Review earlier in the summer and have since re-read it several times.
I am no stranger to the busy-trap. I'm a yes-woman. A classic over-achiever, people-pleaser, type-A, slightly neurotic perfectionist. But the thing with all of this is I know I'm doing it to myself. We all are. It's a choice, every single bit of it. And at the end of every busy, still-not-quite-caught-up day, I hear myself internally asking "why?"
I know that leaving the city is key for me (us). I've felt that stirring for a while now, and keep shushing it silent under the guise of timing. "We're not pregnant yet." "My photo clientele is all based here." "The teaching year is September-June, so we can only relocate in the summer."
Excuses. I recognize that, but still feel tethered. As another birthday approaches in less than two weeks, and another school year kicks off, and another photography season revs up, I'm quietly gathering the will and resolve to employ full trust in our plan for the near future: the one where we bid farewell to New York and the craziness and our increasing lack of free time and start fresh somewhere else.
Somewhere with mountains or waves and houses with wrap-around porches and big grassy yards in a town we can actually afford. Somewhere we can put down roots, purchase a home, grow a family, build a life where happy trumps busy.
The thing is this: I'll always be a planner. I'll always want to do it all and do it well. But now, more than ever, I just want to feel well again. And to do that, I know it's time to forget the plan and follow my heart.
[Photo: August 2014 // Sunset over Cape Cod Bay]