When Life Spins Out of Control

Yesterday morning I was so proud of myself.  I’m talking seriously proud.

By 7:10am I was already up, dressed for the gym (with gym bag and shower stuff in tow)  bed made,  Ashton’s breakfast and lunch made and dishes put in the dishwasher, checked emails, started a load of laundry and was ready to head out the door to drive carpool.

Oh, the bliss of productivity!

Only when I arrived home later that morning I had the distinct feeling that something was awry.   Something just felt “off”.  I began peeking into each room until I came to the laundry door.   One look inside told me everything I needed to know.  In my quest to be superwoman I had overloaded the washing machine.  There my washer sat – tilted sideways in the middle of the room, the clothes inside wet and soggy.  And even worse – the washer’s new position made the filth underneath the thing visible.

So much for feeling proud about my productivity.

Instead, I began thinking about how the overloaded washer resembles an overloaded life.  Sometimes I try to be superwoman, stuffing activities into my day like stuffing a washing machine too full of clothes.   But like the washer, when I’m overloaded I spin out of control.  I end up tilted out of whack.  And worse, you can see the dirt and gunk I can usually hide.

So I took the lesson of the washine machine to heart.  I slowed down.  I took off my superwoman cape – the thing never really fit me anyway.  I put into my day only what would fit.

And I never once spun out of control.