When Dan was alive he used to tell me I worked too hard.

The word “work” mostly referred to one or another creative project in addition to my professional job.

He was right.

I don’t have great boundaries sometimes and the middle of the night, or the wee hours of the morning, are when I do my best work.

A great deal of my work happens in my home. I am a Doula, a Childbirth Educator, and a Professional Trainer for Birth Workers. Except for face-to-face meetings, most of my work is online.

In the past ten days I had a interview with a possible client, four pre-natal meetings, two-and-a-half days conducting an online training, an in-person childbirth class, and two home visitations.

I hear my deceased husband saying, “Honey, you work too hard!”

I am lucky that I love the work I do, so to me it feels more akin to play than work. However, I am SO tired tonight, which brings me to something others call “keeping busy.”

When people hear this widow’s schedule, they often say, “Oh. It’s good that you’re keeping busy.”

No.

I am not creating busyness for myself.

I work to pay my bills.

I’m just lucky that I also love the work.

 

Tending to birthing families, and the folks who prepare them for birth, is making a contribution to birth in our culture; one family at a time.

Yes, honey, I am working hard.

Too hard….maybe this week….yes.

Which is why I am going to bed — right now.

 

Thanks for reminding me from afar the way you reminded me when you were here, babe.

This is me….calling Indy-dog:

“Hey! Time for bed!”

She trots, like a little deer, into my room.

 

Not a bad way to cap another ten days without you, hon.

“Keep going,” I tell myself.

It feels like I hear him say,

“Keep living your best life every day.”

I’m trying, babe.

I am 100% trying

to

do

just

that.

G’nite, love.