My knees hurt. They join my poor arthritic hands (which look more like I remember my grandmother’s than my mother’s…). I’m cleaning up for family visiting this weekend, and I overdid. I do that a lot. And I suspect you do, as well.

Here’s the deal: it’s counterproductive. Really. We think: I can just finish this bit, then this bit, then… And suddenly we’re exhausted, and cross, to boot. Maybe even yelling at our beloveds, or breaking something because we aren’t paying attention.

Fatigue hits like that — it clouds our judgement, and aggravates whatever stress was already there. In my case, impatience w/ my own mortality.

I used to be able to do what I wanted. My body obeyed whatever odd (or unreasonable) requests I made of it. No longer. It’s called ‘aging.’ And it SUCKS. Well, until I consider the alternative! OF COURSE I want to be here for my family, my friends, that incredibly smart & funny grandson. To see what new poems I might come up with, what new birds there might be in the backyard… (There was either a Bewick’s or a house wren yesterday, even in the winter!) And that won’t happen if I don’t take care of myself.

What do you push yourself at? Not the good kind of stretching-out-of-your-comfort-zone push, but the I have to get this done! It has to be done THIS WAY, and NOW! push. Rein in that kind of push; it will only lead to grief.

In my case, pulled muscles, tight hands, and a slightly busted up vacuum cleaner. Not to mention an abject apology to my poor beloved…

Take my advice: pour a hot cuppa; sit down for a short break. All that work will be there. Trust me. And you’l be far better able to tackle it. Remember: moderation, grasshopper. Moderation.