My own boss

I've no idea how to manage my time according to my idea of time management. I think I have to have something solid to show before clocking out at the end of the day with a list of accomplishments to show my boss that I'm worth the money paid me. Validate my presence. Earn the right to cast my own shadow.

But wait, I'm my own boss.

You know the old saying, "You are your worse enemy"? So true.

So?

My sister came over the other evening and we had a long talk. We found out we both carry this heavy burdened belief of having to accomplish tons each day. She is goal oriented and I'm journey minded.

I love the journey. Taking in the view and along this path is where I find myself, sitting on a rock, staring into a creek, or playing with a leaf, watching clouds, or worse yet, staring in to a mirror and wondering how in the heck did I get to be this old?

Then it hits me; I've wasted time, lots and lots of it. I start thinking about how much other people have accomplished. Around that time, my sis calls and tells me how much she's accomplished, and most times, I'm just getting out of bed!

The answer? Be who you are, not who you think you should be.

Ah, peace. It's okay to be the way I am. How do I know this? That is where my love resides. I am ready to love when I've given life lots of thought, not when I've washed six loads of clothes, mowed the grass, washed windows, painted a room and changed the oil in my tractor.

Hold it, I got to say this: I don't change the oil in my tractor. But, if I was super accomplished, I probably would.

If you could put my sister and I into a paper bag and shake us up then pour us out, we'd be perfectly balanced.

Maybe that is why, after talking to her, I feel so much better. She helps to balance me.

I love her totally, though I live in fear of losing her.

Oh don't be so morbid you say? Bull! I do! I worry about this. Maybe it's cause I've lost so many family members.

Or, maybe it's because I love ferociously, not holding back one ounce. You give someone your heart totally, you'll know it when they are gone, because a part of you becomes missing as well. That hurts, and at the same time, it's a gift.

That's part of loving. As Our Lady is referred to often: Lady of Risk.

When I first heard that, many years ago, right after losing my son, I knew it had to do with loving someone totally: you can get hurt.

But, if that's part of being someones mom, daughter, sister, wife, aunt, etc.,

so be it.

I pray for the courage to love, trust and continue to build my nest here at home, where I am my own boss who kicks my own butt and stares out the window, a little too much.

ps. I just thought of something: when I'm sitting by a creek, watching the leaves float by, that's where I get in touch with Heaven, and Heaven is where a part of my heart resides.

I watch the clouds play with the sun and think stuff like, "God is watching this too."

Why do we beat ourselves up over enjoying the gifts God gives us?

I think Wal-mart is to blame.