So the other day I wondered about this allergy attack I had and what its grand purpose might be. It caused me to miss my first class at NYU. I felt prepared, if nervous, for the class. Nothing extraordinary.
A few days have passed and now I think I get it. I’m supposed to see my time from a different perspective. I had started working fulltime the week of Labor Day. I had signed up for a 3-1/2 hour class two days a week for eight weeks. I was supposed to teach a writing class one night a week. I had three life coaching clients and I was trying to wedge them in between my other obligations. I was also editing copy for my church’s website.
Turns out the ripple effect of missing that class is this. I am now assigned to the section that begins in November. It’s Mondays and Wednesdays. I won’t lose my money that way. But now I can’t teach the writing class because there’s a schedule conflict. I finished up with a coaching client this week. I withdrew myself from the editing commitment because I just couldn’t keep up. I was feeling completely overwhelmed — things were coming at me too quickly.
Suddenly I feel like my time is mine. October is mine! I’m able to breathe. I have choices, appreciation. I can enjoy the fall. Yeeha.
November will come soon enough. Until then I will revel in this gift.
And so it is.
