You know, it's funny. I always thought that when I had my own business, Mondays would cease to be the anvil-over-the-head that they have been all my life. Guess what? I still cower in the shadow of that precariously swinging Monday just as much always. The question is, I believe, what's up with that? I mean, come on!
I love my job, my studio, my writing, but still...every Sunday, that anxiety begins to creep in, usually in the early afternoon. Suddenly, I'm no longer having a good time; I'm no longer focused on the beautiful walk I'm taking or the film I'm watching. Suddenly, all I'm aware of is how much time stands between me and Monday morning. If you, too, live in the midst of the Monday misery, then you'll know that this is a pretty crappy way to spend one of your glorious days off.
So, what's the lesson here? Well, it's two-fold (at least). One: the most important point here is our attitude about a certain day of the week. Why do we find Mondays so damned heinous? Here's my theory: on Mondays you can't help but look forward at your week and everything you feel you need to accomplish in that time. Right there. That's our first hurdle. Projecting ourselves into the future, into a time that does not exist except in our minds is where we first go astray. Because, in reality, Monday is no different than any other day of the week. By which I mean, we have a task before us, we concentrate on that task, do the task, and move on. We do that every flipping day, right?
So, what's the problem? It's that forward projection. If we can keep our minds tethered to the moment, do the task before us (and, hey--just to get a little funky here--even find joy in the accomplishment of the task) and move on. Nothing in the moment is so terrible that you can't handle it. That's just the ego talking. Silence it by concentrating on the here and now--the feeling in the body. Maybe send a silent offering of gratitude toward your body, for anything--for getting you up in the morning; for the ability to read and understand; for allowing you to take a break every hour or so; for enjoying that piece of dark chocolate you have hidden in your desk. Anything. Find something to be grateful for and, well, be grateful.
Okay, great. But what about this Sunday issue? Because, honestly, that's the worst part for me. I find myself worrying away a blissful day, cowering and waiting for the inevitable grinding over of the workweek. Really? It's the same strategy. Next Sunday, as soon as the fear of the workweek begins, center yourself. Are you at work now? No. Okay, look around. What can you be grateful for in this moment? That tree outside your window? Your friend/cat/dog/spouse/sibling/ significant other sitting next to you? The sun on your face? Or, maybe, just be grateful you're not at work. Gratitude, I think is the key.
(And, hey, sometimes this dread of the workweek is a signal that you are not living your bliss. Now, if that's the case, that's where your work starts. Read more about finding your bliss here).
Is this always easy? Hell, no. Sometimes the idea of finding things for which to be grateful is the most infuriating thing you do all day. Why? Well, that's an ego of a different color (you can read more about the ego here). Just know that if you're getting annoyed, then you're doing something right. The ego doesn't like to give in to the higher self and it will put up a fight, making you all cranky in the process. Just keep going. Find something for which to be blissfully, unabashedly, ridiculously grateful and make it a habit. It doesn't matter what you're grateful for. Maybe the only thing you can think of right now is that your pencil is blue instead of yellow. Awesome. Start there. And then keep going.
Okay. Great. Now I'm going to bookmark this entry and come back and read it next Sunday as soon as I find myself in the mid-afternoon doldrums (because you know it's totally going to happen again, no matter how good my intentions). Until then, it's one task at a time, one moment at a time, one bliss at a time.