About a year ago, on the brink of yet another over-scheduled fall season, I had a brief yet illuminating conversation.  My friend had (she later regretted) asked "How are you?"  Somehow my reply became a litany of plans for the coming weeks.  When I finished, I was close to hyperventilating.  I took a deep breath, immersed in feeling overwhelmed-and-on-the-brink-of-tears, and waited for her empathetic reply.

"Pam," she said, "you don't have to do it all at once." The silence that followed was rich with meaningful echoes.  "I don't?"  It felt like I did.  As I hear myself recounting a comparable list of commitments this year, I realize I am doing it again.  I am taking a big gulp when small bites would work much better.  I only have to do one thing at a time.  Live one day or one hour or one minute at a time.  When will I learn?

Yes, when I plan five trips in ten weeks, I need to think ahead.  Airline tickets, hotels, and rental cars need to be reserved.  Visits with family and friends lined up.  Kitty care arranged.  Clothing planned and packed. Mail and paper stopped. There are reasons to move out of the present moment and take care of the future.

However, I can overdo it.  I can obsess from waking until sleeping, and even in my dreams, over those tasks.  I can move beyond reasonable preparation into fretting over worst-case scenarios and preparing Plans B, C, and D in painful detail.  "Stop!" says the friend in my head.  "Do what needs to be done now, and let it go."

There is a dynamic balance between sensible planning and living in the moment.  The search for that balance is, for me, life-long.  Times like these remind me of lessons learned and those that remain to be learned.  It is the first week of school, and yes I am still a student.