On Being Tired

“She did not want to move, or to speak. She wanted to rest, to lean, to dream. She felt very tired.” – Virginia Woolf

I feel this recently, all the way to my creaking bones. I feel it further than that – past my aching joints and throbbing muscles. Past my dulled senses and unsettled brain. My friend D-Ray often jokes with me that I need to learn to say “no.” Maybe he isn’t joking, and I only take it that way. Yesterday, I did say “no.” Half-heartedly, but I said it. 
I hate to see anyone or any organization with which I’m involved in need. I hate not to be of assistance if I can do something to help. The problem is – I’m not twenty-nine, anymore. I have to start taking better care of me at some point. Even as I was about to say yes to this organization for an interim officer’s position for the next six months, which would have “only” meant about four hours of my time per month, I had forgotten about my upcoming surgery and how that is going to slow me down. I had forgotten about the task we have ahead of us in Chicago of getting Russ’ mom and dad’s house ready for sale in the next few months and how much time and emotion will be invested in that, for both of us. I had forgotten about the poetry chapbook class I’m taking with the gracious Connie Green over the next ten months. I had forgotten that I have edits to make on my short story collection to whip it into shape to try to find a publishing home for it over the course of the next 6-12 months. I was willing to juggle it with my other two Board appointments, one Board of which is incredibly active. These are all big projects. I didn’t need to take on another project that would take at least four hours of my time every month until April. Yet, I emailed asking what the requirements were for the position when I read about their need.
I want to do it all, though. I always have. To fill every moment with something meaningful. To be of service in some way, to show gratitude for what I’ve been given and to share it with others. I’ve never learned the balancing act of doing so. I’ve gone full throttle ever since my freshman year in college, initially doing so to outrun demons that plagued me, to outrun memories I was afraid to remember, to outrun shame that was never mine to bear. But I learned that I loved being involved. I loved being in the thick of things and being of service to others however I could be. But I was eighteen then. I need to learn to say “no” sometimes. I need to learn when enough is enough and to be happy in that. But when it’s still okay to take precious opportunities that come but once in a lifetime. I need to learn balance. So I can rest a while. I need to learn not to feel bad when I do say “no.” It’s not the end of the world – someone else stepped up almost immediately yesterday. I suspect that could be the case in other situations, as well. Here’s to saying “no” more frequently; here’s to finding balance and wrapping up some of my many projects.