Crumbled up on my gross-dirty-because-not-yet-vacuumed carpet, with the disassembled-refurbished-but-new-to-me Dyson vacuum cleaner spread out before me, it happened.
I wept.
I curled up in a ball on the floor and sobbed about a freaking vacuum cleaner.
Yesterday at 1:32 PM a machine that refused to reassemble was the one-more-thing that broke me.
Yes, I’ve been doing all the stuff you are supposed to do to avoid this problem.
Yoga. Meditation. Reading my Bible. Prayer. Morning pages. Alone time. Art. Organizing. Spending time in nature. Breathe. Long talks. Making lists. Thinking logically. Getting enough sleep. Exercise.
All of those “stress management techniques” cited in the books and websites and passed on by my doctor and my rolfing guy and personal trainer and what I freaking teach in my own programs that are supposed to keep me calm and able to handle my life and create my great work.
I had charts and checklists and reminders and apps that were making sure I did all of my self-care and routines and assignments that I needed to allegedly keep my head above water.
But my problem wasn’t the management of the too much stuff I had going on.
My problem was the too much freaking stuff I had going on.
Realizing that a full-scale breakdown in the face of a vacuum cleaner is not acceptable or normal, yesterday I decided that something must change.
And after sitting in the car, spilling my worries onto six pages while G was at theater class, I saw the problem.
(Or at least, one of the problems.)
Too much work on spec.
I was violating many of my biggest rules.
I’ve been working on almost a dozen project at one time, all of them on speculation – nothing pre-sold or pre-launched, all in the dreaming hoping let’s-see-if-this-works phase.
And trying to combine this spec work with paying-right-now work (coaching, consulting, selling current programs, telecommuting gigs) so I can get my post-divorce finances back in order and pay the bills.
Which meant that nothing actually shipped.
Which meant that I didn’t have time to sell or promote anything.
Which meant that the catch-up time I desperately needed was never going to come.
Which meant that I was falling apart.
So yesterday, I said no.
I said no to almost a dozen projects from my to-do list.
Information products, group coaching programs, physical products, audios, videos, joint venture ideas, tons of wonderful things that people would love (and some people were expecting me to create) but I am only one human being and regardless of my refusal to accept that fact … I cannot (and should not) do everything myself.
I return those programs, all those ideas, back to the ether …. where someone else can take those seeds to spin them into dreams of their own.
And, I said yes to one thing.
One spec project.
An iPhone app (and the corresponding other techy websitey businessy stuff to go with it) that I’m so excited about especially because in a way it’s an app that I want for my own self but it doesn’t exist yet so we’re creating this awesome thing for everyone. Yay!
Yes, I’m still writing my blog, recording the Live Your Truth Daily podcast, and posting the weekly EveryDay videos.
Yes, I’m still doing coaching, MBTI Type II administrations, and consulting.
Yes, I’m still going to sell my past programs that worked, at least once more (look for a big sale on April Fool’s Day, the 8th anniversary of me launching my first business).
And that’s it.
(Well, I’m also a mom and a woman and a friend and a lover and have hobbies and interests and other things going on … but that’s all my businessy stuff. Yeah, I know. Even after all this, I still suck at focusing.)
Oh, and btw, I did fix the vacuum.
Once I calmed down, stop crying and started breathing and looked at it, I saw that the little seal thingie fit into the other side of the thing and didn’t need to be forced and it really went back together easily and vacuumed wonderfully and I’m so happy I bought it and it works.
Funny how easy things can be when I stop forcing it and just breathe.
Hum.
No related posts.






I'm Elizabeth Potts Weinstein, a writer, teacher, and coach.