The Arbitrary Nature of Feeling Unworthy

My email management has hit an all-time low. I’m hopefully not letting the important ones lapse, but I’m sure there will be hurt feelings along the way. I love responding to reader and listener emails. The ones that get me stuck are the ones with a next action. I could just create a task list to get them out of my email inbox. That would be the thing to do, but old habits die hard. And doing that would have me fall into the trap of out of sight out of mind. Then I would have to create a new habit of looking at that list to get things done. As you can tell I am in a “complainy” mood. I should be grateful to be so busy. I should be happy that I am in demand. I should be more generous and open-hearted.

I remember being on a modeling shoot in Mauritius. The photographer asked me how I liked being a model. I told him how homesick I felt and how I was exhausted by all the travel. He didn’t like that and he didn’t like me after that. Looking back I can understand that he must have thought I was completely spoilt and ungrateful for the incredible good fortune that I was experiencing to be that busy with work in a profession where 90% of the participants struggle to get by.

I can feel my own judgments against myself with this current situation. It means something about me that I haven’t figured this out. 399 emails is a measure of my incompetence. 400 now, my incompetence is growing. It is amazing how real it feels that something outside of me can mean something about my value and worth as a human being.

I am sure that some would think it ridiculous that I get my knickers in a twist about email. It is so arbitrary. What will it be tomorrow? Where will I hang my self-worth hat?

Angus would hope that it would be connected to how the house looks, but that one doesn’t hook me. Even though right now our youngest daughter just moved back home and our living room is full of her things and looks rather shambolic, I feel secure knowing it will get handled, and don’t feel an inner compunction to tidy things along. I feel no distress there. And my menopausal body that is changing shape and getting softer in places that make me wonder will my regular pants fit when I am no longer wearing track pants every day as part of my pandemic chic? That doesn’t get my goat. And there are plenty of other things…

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