Can't

I think it's very important to be hard-working.

I am frustrated by laziness, in myself and in others.

But I find it harder and harder to know when can't is won't, or when won't is can't.

If I try just a little bit harder to be organized, or to get more done, can't I do just a little bit more, just a little bit better than I'm doing now? But following this logic, I will be able to do ANYthing: leap over tall buildings in a single bound, stop a speeding train, etc ... because, after all, those are just a little bit more than the step before. Right?

When a child is learning to read, or go potty, a ride a bike, or do two-digit multiplication, how does the mother/teacher know when failure is caused by the child's laziness (or stubbornness) instead of failure due to the child's not being ready? Some kids will learn to read easily at age 3 or 4, more of them at age 6, and some not till age 10. Brow-beating a kid to read usually won't hurry the process. But what happens when some good hard work is what's necessary to get over the difficulty? How do we know?

It always seems that I can be just a little more frugal than last month. But does there come a point when you just can't do it anymore? Does there come a point when either the grocery budget increases, or you don't fill up the people's tummies, or you sacrifice nutrition to save the dollars?

How do we know when our bodies are simply no longer capable of hauling around lumber all day? How do we know when daily jogging is now too harshly bouncy for the guts to take? How do we know when the solution is a little more stick-to-ive-ness, and when the solution is "Give up already! You're too old for this!"

Once upon a time, we were sick. The whole family. Sicker than we'd been in quite a while. We were sitting around, aching, not reading nor watching tv because we were just too sick. We nibbled jello and watched the clock to see when we could take our next dose of tylenol or aspirin. A friend invited us to some event. I turned her down due to illness. She insisted that it would be healthy for us to get out of the germ-laden house, into the fresh air and sunshine, and get going with some physical labor. They had been sick once, but had to go out and do a lot of physical labor that day in spite of illness, and it seems they "sweated it out" and by the end of the day were feeling much better. I often think of that when I'm feeling puny. Maybe I should just ignore the need to rest and get out there and WORK. Maybe I'm just babying myself. Too much of a patsy. Too lazy.

Today it crossed my mind that I don't know the answer to "When is something too much?" in a gazillion different areas of life. And it drives me nuts! Because I value hard work, I am prone to plugging away at something, trying to make it work, far longer than I ought. And because I have no sense of balance (hence the name of this blog) I realized that I will NOT know "how much is too much" until I collapse with a heart attack or have a nervous breakdown or fall down the stairs with a basket of laundry, or whatever the case may be.

So I am trying to convince myself that middle-aged people are allowed to work less than 16 hours a day, that it's okay to sit and put my feet up and allow my mind to veg. I am trying to convince myself that sometimes a person can get more accomplished by stopping, resting, and coming back at the project fresh and re-energized. I have often told myself and others that it's good to "do the best you can," but you can't do better than "the best you can" no matter how hard you try. The frustration lies in recognizing that "the best you can" isn't as good as you want/need for it to be.

Someday I will learn to accept those limitations on my strength and endurance and memory (and the similar limitations of others). Then it will be easier to sit back and take the rest-breaks I need without constantly scolding myself for being lazy.

And today?
I'll just rest anyway,
even if I do think I'm lazy.