This morning I took a very long shower. Very. Long. Longer than I probably had time for. Certainly longer than necessary. I could have accomplished something in the time I spent standing under the stream of near-scalding water thinking of nothing at all but how good it felt to be there and how long I could stay before the water went cold or guilt got the best of me.
It’s so easy for me to focus and dwell on the things that I don’t do well. The places I fall short. The tasks and projects left unfinished or, worse, not yet started at all. It’s so easy to look around and see the messes and the broken drawer, the laundry pile and the dirty floors, the falling-down stacks of paper on my desk, the pile for Goodwill taking up valuable space in our dining room.
It’s so easy to think about what I forgot to buy at the grocery store, or how I should have bought gas on Thursday so I could have saved five cents per gallon. How I’ve already strayed from my weekly meal plan (and it’s only TUESDAY). It’s so easy to sit in my house and spend my time thinking about all the things there are to do that I’ve never quite done right. And still, they need doing again and again. All those tasks of home and family.
Why can’t I sit here and more actively appreciate what I can do. What I accomplish on a daily basis. What I have. Why can’t I focus and dwell on a warm, safe house for my family. The dishwasher running in the kitchen. Hot water in my shower. Extra boots in the closet for my growing 4-year-old. A vacation day to take when doctors’ appointments need attending. The sun shining in the window of my room.
Or, better yet. How my kids want to see me at the end of the day. How excited they were this morning upon learning that I wasn’t going to work today. That I’d be picking them up after school. How tonight’s dinner is (mostly) planned and the rest of the week is full of activities for the kids that they’re excited about. How my Sweetie shaved this morning and smiled his grinny smile and looked, as he got dressed––as I got to watch him get dressed––exactly like the person he is when he’s unshaven. Which is to say, entirely the same as when he’s gone a few months without shaving and yet different somehow in a way that guts me with love and desire and awe.
I am trying to listen. I am trying hard. And I’m learning that so much of what I need to listen to is inside of me. That in these rare moments of solitude in a house usually full to bursting with life and noises there still is plenty of listening left to be done.
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It’s a New Year of Just Write. I hope you’ll head on over to Heather’s place and take part. Read, write, listen.
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I was nodding along reading that second and third paragraph. It’s one of the reasons I chose enough as my word of the year.
Enough. I really really like that! Thanks for stopping by!
My son was being really really bad over Thanksgiving. I told him he was on the naughty list, and that I was really sad about it, but hopefully he could earn his way back to the nice list. Then every day I wrote “Naughty” and “Nice” on a piece of paper and wrote all of the good things he did, and all of the bad. The “nice” part was always so much longer, to my surprise. We focus on the bad for some reason, but it was such a treat to also focus on all of the good. We don’t notice how many times he says thank you, or does something nice for his sister, etc. We remember how they refused to go to bed.
Same for our own lives. I bet if we made our own lists, we’d be surprised by all the good we do.
Enjoyed the read and the thoughts!
Alisa, We should do this in our house. I could write a post about my own similar struggles with naughty behavior from all three kids. Argh. But I bet if we were writing it all down, the good stuff would be noticed more. Great idea! And great wisdom!
I think it’s easy to default to thinking about the things that aren’t as important — not important in the ways we want. It’s easy to automatically think about should haves and why nots and damn, if only I hads. I think that your intention to listen more will result in a conscious ability to do so, and to do so more without prompting from yourself or a reminder to think/dwell differently.
I like the way you think and dwell. And as I sit here in utter filth and choose words over cleaning, it feels OK! :)
What an excellent point! I find myself dwelling on all that I’ve lacked doing far too often, and have to snap myself back in to perspective that what I’m so focused on probably won’t matter in a day or two, let alone a few months or years. Night time is the worst for me when all defenses have broken down. Maybe making a list of the good like Alisa said could be pretty helpful!
Night time is such a struggle, isn’t it? Ack. The demons awaken, and it’s just the worst. Here’s hoping both of us keep focus on the important stuff this year. Thanks for stopping by!
I think it is easy to see the things we think we should do better and hard to see what we already do well.
Truth. I’m working to change my perspective. Fingers crossed…
Yah, yah. I know the feeling. A guy I know tells me repeatedly, “put the whip away”. I try but it is so hard. Is it that we’ve been desensitized to reality with all the “perfect” life we see in the ever-present media every_single_day? It’s hard to know what’s perfect and hence possible, and realize we are not achieving it and yet still be okay, no? It IS okay. It IS.
Put the whip AWAY! Yes!!! Argh. The truth? Perfection is not attainable and shouldn’t even be desirable, frankly. It’s on us to keep it real. (Storing my whip away NOW!)
We play a game our gratitude around our dinner table. Each of us sharing the best (and occasionally the worst) parts of our day. It’s intentional, this focus of positive and I forget sometimes how easily it slips away and hides under piles of laundry, stacks of paper, handprints and dirty dishes. Thanks for the beautiful reminder. Happy new year!
We do this sometimes, too. I should try to do it more frequently. I think I let the tired take over … Grr.
And this is where my own sister always pulls me out of my funk. Your post reminded me of a time when I was complaining to her that I hadn’t accomplished anything that day. I’m notorious for creating impossible To Do lists for myself. She said, “Well, that can’t be possible. What DID you do today?” When I started rattling off my day she said, “I think you accomplished quite a bit.” Sisters. Friends. Commenters in the blog world. They help us put things into perspective.
Perspective is a gift I must learn to accept when offered. (Not always easy…) Hope you’re well, Jane!
Word! (Love you!)
Thank you, friend! xo