I love my Monday morning “team meetings” (yes, the team is made up of me, a pen and paper, possibly a cup of tea). For a long time I resisted them. The urge to get going, get writing, get working on the to-do list continually pressing in. I asked myself what I was doing, after a weekend off, just sitting about.
But I gradually realised that an hour at the start of the week to plan, prepare, dream, wonder. To reflect on how things were going, on how I was doing, to get my priorities straight and my thoughts in order. To lay some things aside. This hour is way more important than rushing into work with a cluttered mind, with half finished thoughts or ideas hovering over my shoulder.
It is a big “Get lost” to that part of me,still trying to cling on albeit with splintering fingernails, who wants to pretend that “more” is always better – that the busier I am, the faster and harder I work, the more important or significant or successful I must be.
What a relief – what freedom – when I accepted and embraced the truth that I need time. Time to refocus, to unravel the tangled ball of wooliness that my brain becomes. To celebrate or correct myself. To pray.
So much of what I do happens in my head, a notebook on my lap, cup of tea in my hand.
And having firmly ejected guilt from the meeting by the scruff of its neck, it`s a pretty wonderful way to spend a Monday morning.