Flying is immensely rewarding, but on some days, a slump builds. Maybe I took a risk and lost my confidence when I didn’t reach my perfect ideal. Maybe I procrastinated on too many things and am now overwhelmed. Maybe I went to bed late and am tired. Maybe it’s bad news and I am disappointed. Maybe it’s just because of the rain. It could be all of it, it could be something I can’t define. I just know that sometimes I lose my clarity, stop FLYING, and succumb to the stress or mood that persuades me that “this is not a good day to FLY”.
I’d give myself a “Grace Period” and with the exception of shining the sink, skipped my Flylady routines. Sometimes the slump could last for days.
FLYING and slumps compete with each other. A slump is when I feel least deserving of love. FLYING is when I believe I do deserve love. When I am FLYING, it takes a little longer for a slump to pull me down. When I am in a slump, it seems inconceivable that I ever did FLY.
The irony is that in the deepest slump, I most need FLYING. The FLYING I resist is actually what gets me out of the slump. I just could not figure out how to make Flying the option I would choose.
Over a long period of time and many slumps, I discovered that slumps most affect my heart. Telling myself I should get up and do some laundry does nothing. I will just sit and debate if I want to sort clothes, because it’s my mind that is thinking through the steps of laundry. I can make the shift to FLYING if I ask myself “If I choose not to FLY today, what is my alternative?” A window in my heart opens and I don’t have to ponder it for long before my shoes are on and I am standing in front of my shining sink. It’s not a question to my mind about doing laundry. It’s an invitation to my heart, to feel better.
Some days I FLY higher than others. I may not accomplish as much, when stress and my mood are weighing me down, but I have learned the best day to FLY is when a slump tells me it’s not the day to FLY. When I ask my heart to make the choice, there is no alternative. Somewhere inside, a small part of me reaches to FLY, knowing the peace is as close as my shiny sink.