I Want To Do Everything

It’s a sunny, bright, cold morning around my castle. Birds are lovin’ my feeder, the breeze is slight, and the snow is starting to melt along the driveway and paths.

A perfect day to want to do everything.

Ever experience the superman/woman syndrome while sitting safely inside, on your sofa or at the table, in your creative shed or library or corner table that holds every piece of information you ever wanted to save?

You’re in your empowerment spot. Your creative spot. Put on a pot of coffee, turn on some upbeat background music, and you’re ready to do it all.

Write. Paint. Sign up for classes. Send off a deposit to several art fairs. Plan a weekend trip to some artsy city a few hours away. Make plans to clean out your kitchen cabinets. Your closet. Design a vegetable garden this year. Plan to visit museums and new restaurants and to explore new walking paths in local (or not-so-local) parks and forests. Start thinking of losing weight and finding a new job and having the entire family over for a family picnic in July.

And before you know it you have empowered yourself right back to a second cup of coffee and maybe a donut.

It’s so easy to plan your future when you’re sedate. Warm. Comfy. It’s so easy to imagine yourself exercising, walking, setting up booths, moving your painting equipment to the mountains, cooking for 50 people, climbing the Eiffel Tower, visit the waterfalls that are only four hours away.

There’s so much energy available in the future!

Too bad reality keeps both your feet mostly on the ground, safe and sound.

Case in point.

I have only one craft fair under my belt so far. I keep busy during the cold months making more product. Last year I planned two fairs and one was cancelled. The one that survived was fun and new and a great time. It also was a LOT of work.

This year I’m tempted by a third fair, one with the name “Dragon” in it. Right up my alley, baby. A wandering though a big park, only 100 booths, it sounds like a piece of cake.

But it’s one week after my first one up north and two days before I pack and take off camping for a week.

The one I have booked for late summer is a big one. A busy one. One I’ve only walked through as a visitor. Optimistically I need to make sure I have enough product and prep time for make this one a success.

I want to do it all.

But I remember how exhausted I was after my first one. I’m not a spring chicken. Even with help it’s a lot of standing and packing and unpacking and arranging and talking to people I don’t know and a smattering of nerves and brain freeze all mixed together.

It’s easy to put too much on your plate. For some, the answer is just to eat off a platter. For others, trade that big plate in for a saucer.

You need to know your limitations. Dream big, Live sensibly. You can plan a vacation to the mountains or the beach, just know how far you can walk on said beach and plan around that. Invite people over for a reunion but limit the crowd. Think about making tile mosaics but plan one at a time, not ten.

Keep dreaming and planning in your special place. It’s what keeps you alive and dancing in the sunshine and the rain.

Just let your past experiences be your guide. Not your daydreams. Don’t try to be SuperPerson.

Your body and mind will thank you for it.