Best Effort . . . Or Last Gasp?
Thus far in Thistle’s ten months of living, we’ve only found one thing that can completely wear her out. It’s a little boy who, I think, weighs about the same as she does. We’ve gotten that little dog tired before, but a five-year-old boy is the only one who’s made her give up and crawl under the ottoman for a rest. Now, this took a long time, mind you. A time that, perhaps, seemed longer than it was with the giggling and shrieking. But ultimately, we had two youngsters ready for a nap.
And once she was worn out, Thistle didn’t hesitate to give up the game. She just got down from the sofa, crawled under the ottoman, curled into a ball and was asleep in short order. How often do we bother to recognize when we’ve had enough and curl up for a rest?
Oh, I know, there are times when you have little choice. But once you come to a stopping point, do you stop? Do you recognize that you need down time, recovery time, in order to do all those terribly pressing things as well as you can? I’m trying to learn to delegate better . . . to say “no” more often . . . to give myself the recovery time I need so that my work, my writing, my family and everything else that’s important to me gets my best effort rather than my last gasp.
There’s so much I want to accomplish. This is a reminder to take a rest. To take stock. To take time for prayer and reflection. To nap on occasion. Though probably not under the ottoman.