Where Credit is Due

Hi, Anxiety

Dear Friend,

When I was a kid, I had a lot of stuffed animals. The dog, the alligator and the mouse were favorites that I wanted in my bed at night. Many others, I didn’t feel the same way about, but if when I didn’t include them at bedtime, then before I could fall asleep I’d end up getting up in the dark to retrieve them rather than hurt their feelings. 

Once everyone was in bed, I had to determine the order of proximity —who got the honor of sleeping adjacent to me, and who was relegated to the outskirts of the mattress – destined to be shoved out of the bed by morning. Nightly, I weighed the emotional and ethical considerations with the same energy one might give planning the seating chart for one’s wedding. At one point, I had a rotation system in place to keep things fair.

Last night, after weeks of procrastination, I stayed up until 2:00 AM laboring over the end credits for my short film: Who comes first? Will a Person A be offended if Person B comes before them? Who gets single cards and who gets shared cards? Do I say “Person’s name…Editor” or “Edited by… Person’s name?”

On one hand, I people were so generous with their volunteer labor — I absolutely should show appreciation and make sure not to forget anyone. 

At the same time, most of the people on the list I was struggling over are about as concerned about their place in the credits of my short film as my stuffed animals were about sleeping on my bed—which is to say, not at all.

Knowing this does not make things better the way you might think.

I haven’t been meditating for a few months now. The consequences manifest slowly, then all at once. Paul and I are doing a day-long Vipassana workshop on Saturday which seems very well-timed.

It’s crowded in my brain. (Photo by Clarissa Watson on Unsplash)

Hope that you and your animals — animate and inanimate — are doing well.

xo

B