The dark bruises on my arms and the ache in my back remind me that I am not the 20-year-old event planner I once was. I’m not even the 40-year-old. Events are hard on me.

I fell into event planning when the kids were small and then brought that expertise into my contract work.  I’m good at it. But the planning takes all my energy and leaves me feeling like someone I am not. When I try to say, I shouldn’t do events, another one comes along, and I take it on. I have ignored the feelings my heart sends. I have made excuses each time that the next time will be different.  I am encouraged by friends that I should not stress as everything always works out.  I try to believe this, but what I am ignoring is that, apparently, my body and soul do not agree. So, what do I do? I keep saying yes.

I read somewhere that just because you may be good at something doesn’t mean you should be doing it. The writer suggested when we are doing something, to check in with how you are feeling.  If the activity brings joy and a sense of excitement, you are on the right path. If the activity gives you trouble, and frazzled nerves, get off the path. “What you do, should bring you energy, not deplete it.”

This last event, the biggest fundraiser of my work since Covid, was co-organized with my daughter and the help of the ‘hip crew’ and our husbands.  As events do, it had with it the many challenges of listening and respecting each team member’s individual vision and preferences and trying to create something that we would all be proud of.  It was not an easy task and included overtime hours, hard conversations and, as always, compromises. This is event planning.  

At the end of the night, it was lovely. Funds were raised, accolades were received, and talk about the next event pursued. It was difficult to hear the excitement of planning a next one over the internal screaming of my body and soul saying, you are too old for this! I am now hibernating, reflecting and licking my wounds.

I have discovered that my soul is not comfortable with event planning as there is little control with many variables (like weather, overbookings & catering orders) which cause me anxiety. There is a must for negotiations as details change, and the team can disagree which causes me angst that everyone is not ok. There are always small details that are completed at the last minute that create sleepless nights where I lie in bed going over and over the task lists. And yes, in the end, it does all work out beautifully.  It’s getting there that grates against the serenity my soul needs. Planning events deplete me, they do not fill me up. 

When one lives with grief, clarity is something you gain. You are sensitive, maybe over sensitive, to what is needed to ensure that your heart is soothed, and your mind finds peace. Clarity lights a path to what those needs are. And we want to follow that path in hopes that our grief will be tamed.

I have been an event planner most of my life, accepting the emotional drain they have on me as part of the job. The gift of clarity that my grief has brought me, through this last event, is that it is time to pass the torch. And with that acknowledgment, I feel my soul breathe a sigh of relief and whispers, “finally”.