Recently, as I sat nursing Summer, I read a blog post from last year at this time. It related the happenings of a busy, husbandless Sunday – one full of meetings, juggling, and readying – that somehow still ended right: books read, cookies made, sunset walks taken.
Reading that post left me with a dull and quiet little sense of longing. Not for the day itself exactly, more . . . for the quite moment I'd somehow found, despite the busyness, to record the day. I must have found it – that quiet, peaceful moment -- because, there that blog post sat: a little, perfect peek into my life, our life. It captured a day that, otherwise, would surely have been sucked into a mixing bowl. It would have swirled around and around with the thousands of days before and the thousands of days after until its individual ingredients could no longer be tasted. It would have made up a part of the wonderful whole, sure, but how much lovelier to have that day exist -- to be able to pick it out of the mix and examine it – separately and clearly.
I'm certainly not trying to play the “who's busiest” game (a game I find rather tiresome to be honest). I have much less on my plate and much less on my typical daily “to-do” list than so many of you. I know that. It's just that I love writing. I love finding completely free spaces of time to churn happenings and thoughts over and about in my mind. I love to watch how they spill out and then come together on paper or a screen; and, as I remembered finding that moment for that Sunday post of long ago, a small sigh escaped me, and I felt a bit wistful for more of those moments right now.
And not just moments for writing; I wanted completely free stretches of time to fill . . . however I wanted, doing whatever I wanted, even . . . doing whatever I needed.
Those stretches of time seem rather hard to come by just now. And, I know it’s all right. I know I’ll have phases of life where my time is much more likely to be sitting there – patiently and expectantly -- waiting for me to make what I will of it. I also know that, even without those entire phases, those moments won’t ever be complete strangers. I’ll find minutes here and there in bits and pieces to write, or read, or run, or organize, or learn, or ponder. And I’ll get along. Those bits and pieces will be enough – as much as I long for an increase in their frequency and duration.
And, I suppose I also know that the bigger things in all of this living business are still happening. If I never get several days to learn new photo editing software, and I never run another marathon, and I never get our photo albums caught up, and I don’t read three-quarters of the books on my “to be read” list; it won’t matter much -- if the majority of my moments are filled . . . well . . . I guess . . . pretty much as they are.
4 comments:
Pretty much since Lila was born I can't get back into blogging and it makes me feel wistful, too. One thing... In the second to last pic it looks like Anders getting a haircut, but then the next pic is Jesse with a haircut. ?
Oh. You have described this so exactly. It would just be so nice to DO things again. But even on the rare occasions when I have time, I so rarely have _energy_ for it, and I hate squeezing things in. I love, like you said, "completely free stretches of time" . . . not rushed and frantic, like, "if I don't do this now, I'll _never_ get to . . ."
I love your mixing bowl analogy too. I have to comfort myself so often with things being part of the "wonderful whole," but underneath that I'm always thinking, "But THIS MOMENT! What if I forget it? And in 2 years I won't even know it's missing, but it will still be LOST to me!!" It's so great to have those distinct moments that DON'T get lost in the mix. Which is why I still make attempts to write, but they're so small and incomplete! And once I have the time and space to record them . . . what will be left to record? The funny, crazy, exciting-ness of life will be over. Sad.
But that sounds depressing, and I liked how you ended hopefully--with the thought that it will be enough. And really, what do I know about life without kids home? Maybe it will be more exciting, thought-provoking, and reflection-inducing than life is now!
And, you're right, it's the experience gained though the busy, writing-free moments that make us _better_ writers (and people!) in the end, right?
Oh, friend. No one thinks you're playing the busiest game. I didn't even know that was a thing. lol.
This is motherhood: "And, I suppose I also know that the bigger things in all of this living business are still happening. If I never get several days to learn new photo editing software, and I never run another marathon, and I never get our photo albums caught up, and I don’t read three-quarters of the books on my “to be read” list; it won’t matter much -- if the majority of my moments are filled . . . well . . . I guess . . . pretty much as they are."
The most important of the Lord's work we will ever do will be within the walls of our own home. That is resonated with me over the past few weeks. What I'm doing is the MOST IMPORTANT. :) I think it's hard to feel that way a good chunk of the time. Maybe because I'm not doing some things right. At any rate, try to do and be better.
Shan, it was always Jesse getting the hair cut. Fun that he could be mistaken for Anders in a shot. I always think they look so different just because Jesse is so tall and lean and Anders is so solid.
Marilyn, my mom insists we will have perfect memory in the next life -- which could be a curse if we've done a lot we don't want to remember . . . unless the atonement can literally wipe that from our minds as well, of course. But I am sure with our increased capacities we will be able to have all these individual moments completely a part of us -- and completely free to be examined and felt individually. AND, I think we will love life as we get older. Not that I'm wishing it away. It's so fun to have a house full of people, but I think there will be lots to love about our later phases. My oldest brother is nearly 60 and recently said how surprising it is for him to find this "old man" stage about the most enjoyable so far. Lots more free time and financial stability, kids and grandkids coming and going, still able to physically do adventures and other things he loves. It'll be great. ;)
Kara, you are right. It's one of those things I know and forget and know and forget over and over again. It won't matter in the end if I got to do all the extra things that sometimes seem so necessary if what I did do was create a home that was a good place to raise these people I've been entrusted with. What's more important than souls? Most especially the ones I've been given? Yes. Yes. That's what matters, and the extra things . . . that don't matter so much but are very . . . pleasant? There will be some of those still to have as well, I'm sure. ;)
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