My to-do list screamed at me.
It started as whispering at first.
Whispers that would creep into the silences, into the gaps during my day.
Then it got louder,
until it filled every space inside me,
it became a roar, distracting me from any sense of peace,
and made me feel like I too would start screaming.
Looking around at the papers on my desk, the unwashed dishes, the mountain of unfolded laundry, a wave of overwhelm crashed on the shores of my mind.
Not sandy beaches, but jagged edges. Shards of rock.
Everywhere there were reminders of what I should be doing, of actions I should be taking. Spiky. Protruding thoughts. Disarray.
I looked my chaos in the eye.
Defiantly, I held it’s gaze.
And then I turned my back on it.
The internal storm was dissolved as I climbed into the bath that I couldn’t afford to take in the middle of the day.
Chaotic feelings snuffed out, harsh voice of to-do gone.
Another voice emerged as I sat in that tub.
This one I listened to.
This one had answers.
This one was kind.
I just hadn’t heard it under all the chatter,
the noise of “shoulds” and internal accusations.
This voice is quiet, calm, knowing.
In no rush at all.
I realised then, this voice isn’t going anywhere. It’s me who abandons myself when I allow the voice of “to-do” to become louder and more important than the other voice.
I get to choose which I listen to.
I hold the power.