What if I didn't have to choose?

I didn't meditate today. I savored some time warm under the covers after waking and then I chose to write. I am keeping a spotty record of things Theo and Dora say and do. They enjoy hearing things they did and I confess I cannot remember many of them unless I write them down. It seems I forget so much these days. It's one of the things I get panicky and depressed about. Barely picked the pencil up when the kids came in wanting help with writing down a comic book idea.

So. This having to choose is irksome. Sleep or yoga? Yoga or meditation time? Meditation time or writing time? Writing time or art? Art or exercise? It always comes back to this and I have to ask myself again--what is my goal? Why do I expect to be able to do more? Is it really important to do so much in a day? Is what I'm doing the rest of the time (the time that I don't get to choose) so unpleasant that I feel so pressed by having to choose? Why do I feel that there isn't enough time.

1. I feel I used to be productive. I used to have the energy for it and, nested in that energy, the inclination.

2. I see others accomplishing more and compare myself to that.

3. I feel my life slipping away in inconsistencies. Others at this age have established themselves in a profession, or at the least have a passion they follow when they have time. I flit from here to there to nowhere.

At the heart of this adventure into meditation is an attempt to ease a nameless discontent. I can attach it to particular things but I'm fairly certain that when I feel this way those things are just convenient bystanders. The discontent can masquerade as irritability, anger, withdrawal, impatience, an overwhelming sensation of being lost, filled with poignancy and regret, sadness, and much more. I'm an introvert and I know my need for personal time and space has been greatly challenged by being a parent. Still I think there is more to untangle here.

One of the better thoughts I've had since the beginning of the meditation class is that it is so much more enjoyable to choose one thing to do and see how long it takes, rather than see how much I can cram into a particular window of time. This mode is easy to slip into when the list gets long and the windows short. I might even do as much (probably not) but the difference in intention and approach is like sidling up to a field of wild horses and getting close enough to hear one breathe, and marching up to a barricaded corral and causing a stampede. This implies so many luxuries, though, principally of time and lack of consequences for, um, not doing. I will do less this way. Simplifying becomes a necessity. Is it a sacrifice or a gift?