Does this sound familiar?
I smash the trigger on the Dyson, which roars to life as I roll it along the baseboards, then I sweep an armful of dollhouse furniture and wooden play food off the windowsill and into a bag to be sorted. I wheel around to scoop cheese stick wrappers and applesauce pouches off the floor.
It never ends!! screams the voice in my head. And yet it has to be done.
My daughter asks me for another snack and I snap something back in reply. I laser-beam focus on every cluttered surface until the mess scurries in fear. I’m moving as fast as my racing heart will let me, sweating with exertion and pent-up rage.
I pause, and for a brief moment, my efforts seem worth it. I stand back and observe the tidy results.
Momentarily, order is restored. I feel powerful! Satisfied.
And then, like cheap caffeine, the high wears off.
The exhaustion floods in.
My daughter drops yogurt on the floor. The timer on the laundry sings.
The rage simmers. The cycle repeats.
You can’t “do” your way out of a “being” problem.
I’m a seasoned rage cleaner. Attacking (and I do mean attacking) the mess in my house was the best way I knew how to feel some kind of control over my life.
Every time I mustered up the strength to defeat yet another mess, I believed a story that said I had to get the to-do list down to zero before I could tend to myself.
In my desire to Do a Good Job! and Be a Good Mom! and keep up with all the chores and schedules and bills, I unknowingly edged out my own space for meaning and connection.
My life became all about managing. I was scared that if I stopped being productive, I’d fall behind. Lose control. In all of the busyness, I didn’t even realize that I was neglecting deeper waters.
But when you withhold from yourself again, and again, and again, problems that would normally be 2s (like the laundry pile) become 8s.
Increasing my productivity was never going to fix it.
More doing isn’t how you solve a being problem.
My problem was connection.
An invitation to practice.
I was convinced I needed hours of time to journal or make art or go hiking, the things that usually helped me feel connected to myself and life. After I had kids, that time up and vanished.
The choice was either total burn out, or figure out a new way to practice connection. I chose a new way.
This way of being doesn’t require you to do anything different. You don’t have to magically find more hours in your day. You can even do it while you do the laundry.
Connection is a practice. It’s available any time. All you have to do is show up willing and open.
It helps to have a guide, and it helps to have friends along the way. That’s why I created the challenge.
Because the laundry needs you connected.
Your family needs you connected.
You need you connected.
When you’re connected, you’re tapped into a well of energy that no mess can deplete—not the mess of house chores, and not the mess of loss and life.
About Zoe
I’m an artist, creative director, and mom of two toddlers. For a lot of my life I’ve been self-critical, scared of the future, and plain ol’ unhappy. At a certain point, I got sick of my situation. That’s when I started off on a journey that taught me something more true than my fears: Connection is a choice. It is available at any time, no matter what’s happening. Living in connection has yielded levels of energy and satisfaction that still surprise me.
