I feel like my mind is a pinball machine right now, bouncing from one idea to the next all while trying to stay in the moment and live deeply in this season. I'm all over the place - from the minute I wake up I'm racing the clock, measuring accomplishment by my to-do list, and blurring the day into a series of tasks to "get through." There is always so much to do, and I'm continually wrestling with my desire to get it all done while not missing a beat with what truly matters. Soon, I start to look at it all and feel like I'm not doing any of it well. And that's when I need to readjust. Re-balance the scales a bit and sort my big rocks from the little ones.
Ann Voskamp writes about time in her novel, One Thousand Gifts. She says: "time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. And this, this is the only way to slow time - When I fully enter its swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention. I can slow the torrent by being all here. Weigh down this moment in time with attention full, and the whole of time's river slows, slows, slows."
As I age, I'm realizing the hard truth that there is never enough time. Okay, maybe when I retire there will be. And instead of allowing time to chase me every day until I'm ready to keel over from exhaustion, it's really about diving into time's current and riding its waves. Go head-to-head with its power and push back with my power of attention. Because it's not the race that matters, but what you notice along the way.
I believe it's nearly impossible to live this way all the time, but I'm finding the importance of attempting to live deep in some way every day. These moments - spending some time writing with the windows open and noticing how beautiful the day is, pushing bedtime back a half hour to make room for a walk around the neighborhood, or stopping to treat myself to a pumpkin spice latte before work, call us to be more aware, help us stay motivated, and keep us happy.
Monday night, Beau was at a conference in Omaha and I was holding down the fort with Cruz at home. It has been beautiful here lately and I know our days of being outside are numbered. Our bags from Kansas City were still where we had left them on the kitchen floor, I had no pants clean for the following day, and there was a weird funk lingering from our fridge. I didn't feel like making dinner and was tempted to pop in a movie and corral Cruz into an early bedtime so I could wallow in my lack of accomplishment for the day. But then I decided otherwise. I compromised on the dinner thing and picked up a $5 pizza from Little Caesar's. Packed my fancy picnic set, threw in a honeycrisp apple, and Cruz and I headed to Prairie Lakes Park. We found a quiet little spot, just the two of us, spread out our blanket, and stayed until dark. We ate pizza by the slice, held hands as we walked along the paved trails, and threw rocks in the lake as the sun chased the clock for us. It was nice to get out of the house, nice to breathe in the fresh fall air, and nice to curl up in bed tired and fulfilled. There's no regret when you take the time to open your eyes and give special moments the attention they deserve. Voskamp says it best when she says, "Life is dessert --- too brief to hurry.
21. a morning at Panera, all to myself. my first pumpkin spiced latte of the season and cheesecake cream cheese on a french toast bagel.
22. listening to Cruz sing in his little red wagon all the way to the park, completely oblivious to the world around him. I want to live, and sing, like him.
23. baby girl kicks during Chicka Chicka Boom Boom at bedtime.
24. the way his hug feels when I pick him up from daycare.
25. the crunch of a honeycrisp apple
Bravo!!.....for leaving the unpacking & going on a picnic!! :) So much truth in this! I am feeling the same way!! I love this post & love the pictures of Cruz! Missing you!
ReplyDelete