Present Over Perfect

noticing those subtle messages that our body speaks to us if
we listen: these have not been my experience. I’ve been
outrunning my feelings for decades, only very recently
beginning to sit with, sit still, dwell.
But I did it, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, and what I
noticed as I sat in that space was fear and anxiety. What
should have delighted me instead made me afraid. And I
know that should is one of my warning signs—that
frequently I pay more attention to how I should feel about
something than how I actually do feel about it.
I talked to Aaron about it when he got home, and he—
who cheers me on, who celebrates with me—crumpled,
overwhelmed by the prospect of what this opportunity
would cost our family. I thought it was going to change, he
said. I thought the crazy was over.
It wasn’t a good time to talk about it, but that’s part of
the problem—when you’ve created a life for yourself that
doesn’t leave space for talking about life-changing
decisions, you’re doing it wrong. And we had been doing it
wrong for a long time. He’d had an overwhelming day, and
we had a video shoot at our house the next day, making me
jumpy and perfectionistic about keeping the house clean,
making Aaron in turn cranky and short with everyone.
I asked for more time, and in the next three days, I went
back and forth a dozen times. Of course I can. If I can, then
I have to. They need me. They need me to be responsible,
and tough. I should. Warning, warning, warning. The words
tough, responsible, and should have never led me to life and