Who Is Doing All of This Well?: What Our Bodies Remember

(Note: I read all my pieces out loud for you; I think they’re best that way—but feel free to read instead! And while I do love an em dash, rest assured every post is written by me—a human—not AI.)

I AM AN ABSOLUTE FAILURE.

Recently, a friend of mine accidentally spilled something in my car, and when I saw her going for the wadded tissues jammed in my front console, I nearly had an aneurysm inserting my hand between hers and the pile.

“Don’t use those!” I squeaked, spittle spraying, unhinged.

“Why?” she asked, taken aback.

“They’re snot rags,” I said as I leaned across her to open the glove box, praying for clean napkins. I left her to wonder why any adult would allow an actual pile of snotty tissues to build up in their car.

As I’m writing this, I’m thinking, “This is too much shame, Carrie. It’s a real bummer. People aren’t going to want to read this.”
But I’m leaving it.
Because I would want to read this. Because I often feel so alone when it comes to the nitty-gritty, dirty details of plain old regular life.

I suspect several things are at play here:
First, I do think I have a fair helping of undiagnosed now diagnosed ADHD (read about my ADHD diagnosis/journey here), and that, my friends, will drive you batty. For example, I’m in one room remembering that in order to finish this task, I need to get something from another room, and by the time I get to that other room, I’ve forgotten what I came for but then I just get distracted by something else. I end up with a bunch of incomplete tasks that add up to a confusing home situation.
Rinse. Repeat.

But I also think something else is going on here.

Then came the Scientific Revolution and then the Industrial Revolution, and with all that progress, we seem to get farther and farther away from what we have evolved to be: social creatures who want to live in community, contribute meaningfully, and not spend our entire lives drowning in to-do lists.

I guess what I’m saying is I feel all of this.
When I hear that human beings, on an evolutionary level, weren’t made for this modern life, I FEEL it somewhere in my stomach and definitely in my aching hip. Because I sit all the time, doing a bunch of cerebral, computer work every day, and while I’m grateful for the physical rest, my body ticks with the lack of movement while my weary mind drops plate after plate trying to keep everything spinning. Here’s a list of some of the things the modern human needs to think about/remember often (not including those I’ve already mentioned above):

• change the sheets

• do the laundry

• put the laundry in the dryer or hang it up

• put the laundry away

• clean the bathroom

• clean the other bathroom

• clean the other other bathroom

• dust the fan blades on all the fans in the house

• buy more toner for the printer

• pay the utilities (most of us have a minimum of 8 per household)

• make breakfast every day

• make lunch every day

• make dinner every day

• pay for car insurance on several vehicles

• make sure all vehicles get tires rotated, oil changed, fluid levels checked

• keep cars vacuumed, de-trashed, and de-snotty-ragged

• bring in the outdoor furniture cushions and pillows if it’s going to rain

• take Amazon returns to UPS

• help kids with homework

• volunteer at kids’ school

• take kids to extracurriculars

• pay for extracurriculars

• make sure kids have clothes, food, shelter

• make sure every family member gets annual physicals and teeth cleanings

• pay for therapy for family members

• pull weeds outside

• pay for any tree trimming or removal

• maintain good personal hygiene (this encompasses like 50 bullet points, but I’m going to try and keep this short)

• help your kids maintain good personal hygiene

• clean every room in the house (the average is 7-8 rooms) on a regular basis

• change the water filter

• buy presents for the people you love for birthdays, Christmas, etc.

• answer your emails

• answer your texts

• go grocery shopping every week

• power wash and/or paint the house exterior

• clean the windows inside and out

• vacuum the floors regularly

• empty and clean the refrigerator(s)

• do software updates on all devices

• backup your computer(s)

• backup your photos

• refill the bird feeder

• walk the dog

• feed the dog

• take the dog to the vet

• let the dog outside for frequent bathroom breaks

• clean the garage

• maintain the mower and weedwacker

• buy and change out lightbulbs

• go to the gym regularly

• get enough steps in in a day

• drink enough water

• do personal finances including balancing your checkbook

• make sure you have appropriate emergency equipment including raincoats, umbrellas, emergency radio, candles, etc.

• change the time on all the clocks every fall and spring

• make sure to have propane at all times for outdoor grilling

• maintain and store all holiday decor

Now I could go on, but I think you get it.
There are so. many. things to have to do and to remember, and I haven’t even mentioned maintaining interpersonal relationships. The point is:

of course I can’t do it all.

There’s too much to do. And not just for me; for any of us.
"Who is doing all of this well?” I rant to my friends, and ALL of them have the same answer:

“NOBODY.”

“Oh,” I say. But didn’t I already know this?

So where do we go from here?
We live here. In this modern culture. And unless we’re planning on packing up and leaving it (which most of us aren’t), we’ve got to work with what we’ve have.

So here are little changes I’m going to make to honor my body and my brain and try and get some of those plates to stop spinning:

1. I can listen to my body. Oh BOY. Could I write tomes on this subject (but that’s for a different day). Our modern culture values the brain, the mind, the intellect over the wisdom of the body. And even though we’ve ignored her, she’s still in there, and she’s telling us what she needs and wants; we just have to learn to listen to her again. I am learning to take my body as seriously as someone I love, not just tolerating her like I would an annoying little sister.
   

2. I can redefine “enough.” In our capitalistic culture, there is no such thing as “enough.” So we have to define that for ourselves. Maybe the windows don’t have to be cleaned twice a year. Maybe we can stop shaving every single day. Maybe instead of full-blown Hallmark holiday house decor at Christmas, we leave a good half of the plastic bins in the attic and decorate with much less (unless Hallmark Christmas gives you joy, in which case—my blessing). We can even let some plates fall on purpose. Not every plate deserves to keep spinning. Some should crash—like needing to dust fan blades every 6 months.
   

3. I can invite imperfection. One of my favorite ideas is “scruffy hospitality” where you don’t clean before inviting people over, and you serve them meals that you would make on a regular Tuesday night and not the fancy, frilly, Pinterest food you might regularly serve at dinner parties. Dishes in the sink—doesn’t matter. People are more important than perfect.
   

4. I can celebrate small acts of resistance. So what if I chose to play a board game with my son instead of vacuuming out the car? What if I took a nap instead of pushing myself so hard? What if I wore teeny little shorts while showing off my unshaven legs? It feels good to smash the patriarchy and honor myself at the same time.
   

5. I can honor my limits without shame. The last word of the sentence is really the kicker. Shame keeps us small and lonely. We are limited; we can’t do everything, be everything. So let’s not try. Limits aren’t flaws; they’re boundaries that tell us where we end.
   

6. I can get out in nature. We are, after all, part of nature, mammals, animals. And being in nature has a way of clearing out the noise and bringing us back to center. Take a walk. Watch the birds. Notice how the sun glints off the leaves and how the wind feels blowing through your leg hair.

I mean, these are suggestions, and I in no way have this figured out.
I want to know—do you ever feel this way, Dear Reader?
How have you managed to deal with the overwhelm of needing to make sure you remember and do all the things? I’d love to hear about it; drop me a comment and tell me!

With unshaven hope,
Carrie