How easy is it to hide stress? Not as easy as I thought. Evidently, I’ve been hiding it from myself; and evidently, I’m getting much better. Thank you to my neighbor for being so observant. That’s one of the powers of supportive community: people who notice and care. Maybe more of that is a step towards what we really need.

Observations from friends:

• You (Tom Trimbath) have not taken a day off since Labor Day.
• Hey, Tom, your shoulders look more relaxed.
• Nice to see that you don’t look nearly as tense anymore.
  

  Stressed? Enthused? Both?

My initial response in each case: oblivious. My second response: Hey, I guess they’re right.

The oblivious part comes from being so busy and so focused on taking life day by day that I haven’t noticed the bigger changes, or even what happened last week. Finally, I found and was given the opportunity to make enough to pay the mortgage. Yea! Years, yes years, of trying to make up for a temporarily imploded portfolio nurtured a habit of working hard, especially on anything that reinforced that work with compensation. Now, I have more than enough work to do for two of my clients, and am dutifully tending to my other business ventures.

Got cards?

That sum is more than enough for a regular workweek. October is an intense overlap. November will be better, right? Okay, how about December?

As each check comes in I mentally assign it to some unpaid bill or deferred repair. It is obvious that years of deferred maintenance won’t be countered within a month. The internal urgency to book billable hours is partly to pay for the basics and to catch repairs before they become replacements, but also to show appreciation for the opportunity to be paid to work on things that I think need doing. I have more than enough incentive to work hard.

The intensity and the internal urgency make me aware of physical symptoms of stress to the point that I thought my stress level hadn’t changed from when I had less money than bills. And yet my stress must be diminishing. My friends tell me so.

Many people I know are in marathons. They can’t remember two days off in a row except for emergencies or family events. Especially for the growing population of people becoming entrepreneurs by necessity, every day off is a day without pay. The concept of paid vacations sounds abstract and laughable. So many people are covering from financial reversals that crowds are working at every welcome opportunity they find and barely taking time to breath. Some are aware enough to make sure they take walks and look at something besides computer screens.

The pessimist in me wonders if the intensity is because wealth and income inequities will continue, and that this is the new normal, at best.

The optimist in me hopes that the work is creating personal progress that is harder to see from inside than it is from outside; and that will eventually allow a greater ease.

The realist in me realizes that this post is being written at 9pm. I got a lot done today. I am particularly pleased with some of my work. And I am also aware that the dishes aren’t done. The laundry is tumbling in the dryer. The bed isn’t made (ha! futon couch because I sold the “real” couch months ago). But, the lawn was mowed (a necessity for a house that’s for sale) – thanks to a dear friend who loaned me a mower.  The front was half-done as the sun was split by the horizon. The back was done after the street lights came on. How did I ever have time to watch that old technology called television?

Our finances, our environment, our philanthropic work, and for some folks our political climate are in such need of our efforts that all of our free time can be assigned and accounted for. But step back and ask around. Maybe we’ve made progress and don’t realize it. Maybe we should give ourselves a bit of a break. Maybe we should take a breather in the midst of this marathon called work and remember that we’re here to live a life. With a break or two we may be able to reflect and commend ourselves for our accomplishments, and may even look better when we start running again. We may look better. The world may look better.