The Triage Triumph

DAY 10

Ah, in the halcyon days before the great pandemic upheaval, my life resembled a whirlwind of activity, akin to a Chaplin-esque comedy with two rambunctious school-bound children in tow. Every day was a juggling act, tending to the needs of my offspring, attending to the whims of three clients, imparting the wisdom of the stage, and somehow managing to keep the household afloat with a medley of chores from washing to cooking to laundering. Ah, but those were the days when I toiled from the comfort of my abode, wielding my home office like a maestro with his baton – a sanctuary amidst the chaos.

Yet, as time unfurled its somber cloak over the past three years, I found myself in a lamentable slump, searching desperately for the spark that once ignited my fervor. Covid, that convenient scapegoat, proved to be but a solitary excuse in a sea of complexities. It was upon scrutinizing my erstwhile schedules and to-do lists that a revelation dawned upon me – I had unwittingly been practicing the fine art of triage.

Now, triage, my dear friends, is a concept plucked straight from the annals of emergency medicine, birthed amidst the chaos of war by the deft hands of physicians. Simply put, it involves identifying those in dire need of attention amidst a sea of afflictions, allocating resources where they are most efficacious. And lo and behold, the same principle holds true for every facet of existence – from relationships to time management.

In essence, we are akin to the discerning mother cat, culling the weak to ensure the vitality of the strong. For me, the lifeblood that sustains my spirit lies in the intimate rapport shared with my patients. And though I may venture into the realm of group retreats and instructional endeavors, it is this clinical interaction that truly nourishes my soul.

But alas, with a tome in the making, three retreats in the pipeline, and monthly tutorials clamoring for attention, the burden grows heavy upon my weary shoulders. Delegation, a necessity looming on the horizon, yet for now, I must embark on a voyage of elimination.

Firstly, we must amputate with ruthless abandon that which does not serve our higher purpose – a veritable pruning of the unnecessary. Next, automation emerges as our steadfast ally, breathing life into the mundane with the magic of technology. Aggregate follows suit, bundling tasks like surgical blocks to minimize inefficiencies. And let us not forget the art of allocating, relinquishing the burdensome yoke of laundry and grocery shopping to the capable hands of others.

Ah, but therein lies a harsh truth that I must confront – there are simply not enough hours in the day to indulge every whim and fancy. Thus, with the practice of döstädning, I engage in a perpetual triage of all that crosses my path. If it does not warrant immediate attention or a place in posterity, it is swiftly dispatched into the ether.

And so, armed with the philosophy of triage, I approach each task with a discerning eye, eschewing the pursuit of perfection in favor of pragmatic progress. For in the art of triage lies the liberation from the shackles of procrastination, allowing one to march boldly forward, unencumbered by the weight of superfluous obligations.

Yours unfettered

Lady Agatha Ironstead.