Humbled

Long post alert. Go grab a sandwich and xanax. I'll wait for you.

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I had a bad couple of weeks.

There, I said it.

I pride myself on my uncanny ability to push through anything. I can work with the stomach flu. I can bulldoze through extreme exhaustion. I can push through seasonal affect disorder, just boning up on Vitamin D supplements and listening to Jimmy Buffet. I can email until my vision goes double from foggy contacts and I finally graduate to my glasses until my work is done.

Except that I really can't.

It's humbling to realize that you're a mere human and somewhere in between working a zillion hours and taking care of everyone and everything else, you suddenly realize that you're one breath away from walking away from everything and taking a job at the neighborhood Dairy Queen.

Okay, it's not that bad. But I haven't been completely honest with you- I have been struggling, using all my energy to put one foot in front of the other.

This past weekend, I drove to SB to spend time with my beloved aunt. Starving and on the expressway at dinnertime, I was overjoyed to find a candy cane in my glove box (it can't be *that* old, I bought my car in 2010).



Would it make it more palatable if I told you I had low blood sugar?!

Time with aunt was fabulous. She knows me better than my own mother and as a former executive, just gets it. She's one of my life coaches where I lay out my situation (positive or negative) and she gives me some objective wisdom befitting crystal ball status. This past weekend, after listening to my stories and delicately questioning me about work, she deduced that it was time for a change.

Racing back to Chicagoland on Saturday, I called my bestie Bewley for some friendly catching up. She is actually publishing a book about women executives and she reminded me to "play" more.

In an aptly-timed email, Nurse Starbucks offered to tutor me in massage therapy. In exchange for stock in Teavana and twice-daily dog-walking.

{Dog walking! My first client! Who hoo!}

As the weekend concluded, everyone's words rang in my head...is it really right that I'm working so hard and it continues to feel as though in vain? I tossed and turned all night, anxiously and spastically charting my week, meetings, and responses to political arguments that I will receive.

I didn't sleep a wink.

Before sunrise, per my usual routine, I showered and dove, headfirst, into a monster mug of coffee. But I couldn't face my 12-hour day, knowing I would finish the day with a longer to-do list than I started.

I'm so not a quitter. But I breathed a sigh of relief when Jack, studying my bloodshot eyes and panicked demeanor, reminded me that, in management, I get a degree of flexibility. So what if I stay home on Monday? He quickly offered that I could work on Saturday and he'd occupy himself, freeing me from the guilt of going in on a Saturday.

With that, I texted my boss that I was flexing my time and tuned into some Cities of the Underworld that I DVR'd over the last month.

The rest, as they say, is history. Two great friends (you know who you are) donated time out of their work days to pepper me with questions about why I'm doing what I'm doing. And what's truly going to serve God and not kill me or my spirit? Deep questions to which I still don't know the answers. But at least I now have the courage to ask them and fumble through the hodge podge of emotions they stir up.

My friend Vera then reminded me about her "hippie healer" that she sees in Kankakee (a long, stinkin' drive!). I called and, surprise, they had an appointment. So I embarked upon the journey to Hippie Hangout, which was really just an old-school chiropractor. Who played me some awesome acoustic guitar.

What, your chiropractor doesn't play the guitar for you?

This one was a wiry, old-school guy who, after relaxing you with some fabulous strings, cracks your back 18 ways from Sunday. So much cracked that it was sickening.

I saw stars. And not the Hollywood types. But...I can stand up straighter and feel far less pressure in my neck and shoulders.

I know, I know. I'm a skeptic of chiropractors, too. Maybe it was the guitar that won me over. But, in the words of the Monkees, I'm a believer.

The title of this post is "humbled" because that's how I feel this week. My friends' coaching and listening and relaying of general life wisdom was so uplifting these last few days. I'm humbled to have such great people in my life. I hope that I can return the favor someday and offer you all some of the same great perspective with which you've graced me.

Tomorrow's a new day.