I am a person who believes in efficiency and 'the best way' of doing things. This has resulted in many burned suppers as I would be vacuuming while also frying potatoes. That is not such an efficient approach after all, as it turns out.
That has always been my way. I struggle to be present in the moment because I'm multitasking with the next moment and borrowing from tomorrow's worries. Though I am aware of missing out on enjoyment, though I know I'm not doing any one thing really well, and though unexpected opportunities pass me by, I hold pretty firmly to my MO of (in)efficiently ruining my suppers.
Some of you may know my situation: I live in a place I call SOHOE – a slice of heaven on earth. I work at the library just down the road. I'm able to get by on part time hours because I live simply, and use my down time to recover (an introvert working with the public can have messy results without sufficient down time!) and write. This is all – every bit of it – a direct answer to a very specific prayer. Surely there cannot be anyone else as blessed as I am?
|Photo: Olga Everaert|
You'd think I'd be reveling, exalting in my circumstance. I had all I'd asked for. And I would be if I were other than who I am. Sadly, I instead found myself squandering months of this gift through my old propensities of rushing and worrying. When I wasn't at work I'd either fritter my time away, or put my head down and plow through my duties as quickly as possible, fretting over the to do list, not seeing the wonderfulness around me.
I don't work on Mondays. Before 'the awakening' I would essentially squander the day, even if I got a good amount of work done, because I wasn't attentive to the little moments. When I realized that tomorrow is not a guarantee, that I don't know how long I will be privileged to live here, I decided to soak up those moments, be properly appreciative, take advantage of the opportunities I have.
I'm trying to be attentive to the gift I've been given, and it has brought me such contentment.
I am living my Mondays.