Resigning from Morris dance

January 24 I re-dedicated myself to druidry and began daily practice of meditation and movement (well, I did it 12 of the past 14 day).

February 2, I changed my Facebook cover photo from my Morris dance hat (I was wearing it at the time, but the main focus of the photo was on the hat, not on the rest of me) to apples hanging from an apple tree.

Those were the things I needed to do to lay the foundation.

I've been thinking about quitting Morris dance for a long time.  I know I told my aunt I might quit soon last May.  I don't think that was the first time I thought I bought quitting. 

With the druidry and the apples, I was free.  I didn't need to cling to Morris dance as the only meaningful thing in my life.

February 4 at midday was the first tai chi class in two months -- the class had been on hiatus for winter break.  I was exhausted afterwards.

February 4 in the evening was Morris dance practice.  My car was surrounded by a pile of snow that would have to be shoveled.

I couldn't bear it.  I was exhausted.  I couldn't bear to shovel the snow, let alone go out after shoveling. 

Finally, I plucked up my courage and resigned from Morris dance.

It was hard because I had to tell the people I was resigning.  It would have been easier if I could have just stopped showing up when I didn't feel like showing up. 

There are people who do a lot more activities than I do.  Some of the Morris dancers do a lot more things besides Morris dance. 

I feel like I should be able to do lots of stuff too.

I'm not other people.  I have to follow my own pace.

There's an expression "his eyes are bigger than his stomach," for someone who puts too much cake on their plate.  That's what I'm like with activities.  I'm eager to do it all.  I keep thinking, "Now that I've quit Morris dance, I can..."  I want to attend a Unitarian Universalist chuch, attend the Dances of Universal Peace, volunteer at the historical society, take institutional research classes, take library science classes, learn skate skiing, go on retreats, learn to play musical instruments, take Nia, visit the two small cities in which I dream of living, and visit my relatives. 

But first, I need to build my foundation.  I need to go to bed early, meditate, go on nature walks, read spiritual books.  I need to establish that solid foundation.  Then I can slowly add activities, but only to the extent that they don't interfere with that foundation.