When chatting recently with Zee, I stumbled upon this truth, perfectly representative of the holiday season:
It's not that there aren't enough hours in the day.
It's that I'm not spending as many of said hours doing what I want.
Yes, yes. This is, arguably, true for just about any given 24-hour tunnel of chaos we call a day. Yet, I find that it is not (as a rule) the case for January 22nd or March 6th or August 12 as it is for pretty much the entirety of December.
If I had my ideal way, I'd take the entire month of December off. Not from work. Or from school. Or from bills, dirty toilets, laundry loads, and ratty floors. But from it all!
And I'd take my closest friends, too.
And they'd get the entire month off.
These fictitious elves we're all so fond of watching in claymation would pour into my house while I slept and pay those bills (with money from the tree out back), scour those commodes, spin out those towels and sheets, and buff the wood planks to a blinding shine.
And, while they're doing all that (whilst singing Christmas carols happily), I'd handcraft projects, sew drapes and blankets, redecorate a room,
read the best books I own...again.
I'd go to the gym without checking the clock or packing snacks. I'd cuddle with my babies all the day long.
And I'd follow the sunshine over the passing hours of day, moving room to room to find the best chair, the best throw, to curl up...and just breathe.
To talk to Him.
Or to Craig.
Or to you.
Or even to myself.
But there are no elves. There are only the bills, the toilets, the laundry, and the floors. There are only the stacks of papers and manuscripts and students' emails.
Still...
I lay in bed this morning and thanked God for indoor plumbing - who cares if it needs a scrubbing now and again? I'd much rather NOT go into the 12 degree frigidity to crouch on splintered planks.
I thanked Him for bills we can pay - with enough left for presents under the tree for our fam and for others, too.
I thanked Him for the husband breathing beside me and the purple of the Peak nesting exactly middle in our master window.
For Christmas lights and a furnace blowing heat.
For the promise of New Year with Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter - memories all.
Perhaps the tasks are not those I most prefer.
But the hours of life grow long.
Why not let who I am be what I want?
It's that I'm not spending as many of said hours doing what I want.
Yes, yes. This is, arguably, true for just about any given 24-hour tunnel of chaos we call a day. Yet, I find that it is not (as a rule) the case for January 22nd or March 6th or August 12 as it is for pretty much the entirety of December.
If I had my ideal way, I'd take the entire month of December off. Not from work. Or from school. Or from bills, dirty toilets, laundry loads, and ratty floors. But from it all!
And I'd take my closest friends, too.
And they'd get the entire month off.
These fictitious elves we're all so fond of watching in claymation would pour into my house while I slept and pay those bills (with money from the tree out back), scour those commodes, spin out those towels and sheets, and buff the wood planks to a blinding shine.
And, while they're doing all that (whilst singing Christmas carols happily), I'd handcraft projects, sew drapes and blankets, redecorate a room,
read the best books I own...again.
I'd go to the gym without checking the clock or packing snacks. I'd cuddle with my babies all the day long.
And I'd follow the sunshine over the passing hours of day, moving room to room to find the best chair, the best throw, to curl up...and just breathe.
To talk to Him.
Or to Craig.
Or to you.
Or even to myself.
But there are no elves. There are only the bills, the toilets, the laundry, and the floors. There are only the stacks of papers and manuscripts and students' emails.
Still...
I lay in bed this morning and thanked God for indoor plumbing - who cares if it needs a scrubbing now and again? I'd much rather NOT go into the 12 degree frigidity to crouch on splintered planks.
I thanked Him for bills we can pay - with enough left for presents under the tree for our fam and for others, too.
I thanked Him for the husband breathing beside me and the purple of the Peak nesting exactly middle in our master window.
For Christmas lights and a furnace blowing heat.
For the promise of New Year with Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter - memories all.
Perhaps the tasks are not those I most prefer.
But the hours of life grow long.
Why not let who I am be what I want?
No comments:
Post a Comment