The more I have to do, the more stuff I have, the more I feel anxious about time. I check the clock, the analog clock I keep to plan things, I mark up my calendars, and I rush-rush-RUSH to get things done.

Letting go means things go slower, differently. Doing Less means being okay with open spaces and unplanned moments in life.

Time happens at different paces.

Not worrying to the clock so much means I actually listen to my internal clock.

A few nights back I got tired early – really early – and I went to bed before 9pm. I actually yawned while sitting in my chair reading, thought about going to bed, and looked through my glasses at the clock.7:51pm. I laughed. I can’t go to bed at 7:51pm! Then I looked at my list of things I wanted to get done that day – nothing much, except for a silly to-do list that I promptly ignored in my practice of “saying no” to more things.

I CAN go to bed at 7:51pm. I started the rituals: turned the heat up for a half hour, brushed my teeth, cleaned up the dishes, and cozied up into my bed. I ended up reading for a bit and jotting a few notes down in my notebook as more essay and blog ideas jumped to mind – but I was out like a light before 9 PM.


*** *** ***

The opposite is true, too.

Over the holidays I was caught in a whirlwind pace of writing – I had 4 tabs open in my browser and I was scribbling thoughts down – and then I took a break to look through Reverb10’s prompts.

Awww shit, I thought, I should catch up on those. And the “word” prompt struck me again. I was STUCK. Stuck for a word, for a thought. It felt heavy, like I was getting behind on another list of things to do. Can I really catch up on all of these Reverb prompts? The voice of reason tried to tell me to procrastinate. But I sighed, opened up a new browser window, and started composing.

A word? What word could possibly describe 2010?

I looked in the rearview mirror a little more – let’s see, what happened in 2010?

And then I was writing, writing as fast as I could, just letting words tumble out and not judging myself or stopping to edit. I just wrote. (And the one word response has been the highest hit blog post on this blog, ever.  Go figure.)

And then I looked up at the clock. 2AM.


Not a yawn, not a peep, not an ounce of tiredness. And this was two days BEFORE my exciting night of the 8 PM bedtime. I still had more in me. I wrote another post, and then another, set the publishing times for 5AM and the following two days and hit the bed. It took a while to sleep – I had lots more to scribble in my notebook – and then I was out like a light.

Waking up the next morning was refreshing. Well, maybe not refreshing – more like a dazed stupor around 10AM and I stumbled around a bit before I felt like I was honestly awake.  I had given up coffee for a month, so waking up felt a bit difficult.

And then I remembered the writing marathon the previous night – it made me smile. I felt like I had written some good stuff, and I was excited to go back and proof some of it a little more and check the piece I’d published out in the print-like feeling that is a posted blog entry.

I opened my email, my twitter, and a few other accounts. And my email inbox started blowing up.

So, thank you.

So many people reached out, commented, shared, and laughed with me. Writing has taught me that moments like this – the connection across the internet, to people all around the world, to friends that come out of the woodwork to share stories with me – are not to be taken lightly.

Readers and blog followers and every single subscriber – even the ones who never email me or leave a comment – Thank you. I am constantly amazed by the people who come here, to read my words, to listen to the random stories and scribblings and thoughts. I had an overwhelming number of emails in my inbox from people sharing their own stories and being grateful for my post – I couldn’t have even expected it. Who knew that my writing would reach out to so many people?

And, thank you for Less. For coming with me on this journey. If I’ve learned anything, it’s to make space for the things that matter. For me, that means making time and space for writing and for reflecting. And for things like sleep, open space to dream, time to read, and possibly allowing yourself to stay up late in marathon sessions of productivity. :) Sometimes it means making space for slowing down. Other times, it mean making time for the things that matter – your goals, your dreams, and your ambitions. Make space for things to happen.

Making space and making time for things that matter is vital.