I've been making notes for this topic for quite some time.  For several weeks now I've come across objects that meant a lot to me.  At least, they used to mean a lot to me.  I began to wonder why I was hanging on so tightly--even to broken mementos.  My original concept was "letting go" which implies the release of non-essential holding/then relief.    Last week I recognized a twist which alters the exercise and affects the results.  The first scenario seems slightly negative.  Why not a creative approach?  How about making room or creating space to achieve a fruitful outcome?  

The end of school is an easy time for a test.  Changes are built into our schedules in the form of fewer obligations and longer, warmer days.  Last year at this time I first considered ending my youth orchestra.  Consuming much of my time for the past six years, the group was straining my resources.  Membership and funding were down significantly last season.  I asked myself a lot of serious questions but the crucial one was, "what would my life look like without it?"  After deciding to suspend operations until January, another opportunity came out of the blue.  It didn't take long to realize that working for someone else teaching elementary orchestra was more rewarding.  I closed one door; another one opened.

There are physical ways to create space.  Spring cleaning is a time-honored method for freshening a stagnant home.  The change from winter to summer means it's time to put away the bulky boots and sweaters and haul out lightweight shorts and sandals.  A new hairstyle or color might also make you feel lighter than air.  There are also emotional ways to create space.  The main one is….

Rest.  Slowing down is a great method--if, you can do it.  That's a big "if" for me.  Orchestras, classes, commitments and students had wrapped.  I had an opportunity to fine tune next season's workload and consider changes.  This was my time to take a closer look at my choices.  I should have had the time--instead I filled my schedule with exercise, errands, ...stuff.  I realized I was spinning my wheels just as fast but with different tasks.  In other words, I'd been running away from my breathing room and wasting precious time. 

Too bad I had to figure this out the hard way.  Instead of simply resting my body took over.  Colds, back pain, foot pain--all literally knock you off your feet making sure you slow down.  Apparently I really needed space because last week I injured my foot on a run.   After the initial frustration and considerable pain I wondered if this was just what I needed.  Fight it or accept?  Continue to clutter my head or be alone with my thoughts?  Now off my feet for a week and a half and counting there's time to soak in Epsom Salts and journal and think.   I created space and now I have the space to create.

 
 
I woke up this morning qestioning my coping strategies. I know that they work beautifully for me when I'm functioning as an individual. There's another dimension to stress when you add a partner. How can I develop effective strategies to handle relationship stress? In challenging times I want to put more focus on asking for help.

We've been working hard these past few weeks. There have been rehearsals nearly every night. We've worked on the weekends. And more rehearsals for me during the day. My husband is up before the crack of dawn every day to teach school. It's been tough to talk and to connect. And even tougher to reach out.

I'm managing my stress during the day yet when evening comes around it feels familiar to retreat into my separate self. Hiding in my tortoise shell I feel lonely and alone. Despite my list of coping strategies and my best intentions somehow fear clouds my thinking.

This is exactly the time I could ask for help and receive much needed support. And I can do that if I plan ahead. I'll set an intention to make a request and trust that my needs will be met. Some gently whispered words of encouragement are what I need most. After a long day and an even longer night, when he's trudging up the stairs to fall into bed, I'll ask for help.