Or better, “Since returning to Kansas, I have flopped, zigged and not zagged, loafed, and nurtured my inner sloth.”
As a rule, instead of hunkering down in crisis, I’ve always accelerated leaving a lifetime of attempts to outrun, outwork, and outserve the reality of grief and violence. The nobility of “work” is a nice hide-a-way for actually dealing with life.
Until it isn’t.
This time, I just didn’t have it in me to race and rush about “proving” I’ve still got game. Because I didn’t. In mid-2103, I had a bucket full of physical, heart, mind trauma and that was the sum of it.
It’s 2016 and I want to do more than wish and talk about reading through my library, finishing my to-do lists, creating those (simple) photo albums of the kids, and exploring nearby places like Lindsborg, Atchison, Lucas, and Nicodemus.
I want to return to intentional action. In acting on what I KNOW I want to do now – however small and seemingly insignificant – I will be charting a course to a yet-known end. Movement and inertia here I come. Balance and rest, too.
I’ve been thinking about this lately after hearing myself lament – again – about this long drought of ambition and lack of career goal. Yes, moving to safety and reestablishing societal connections and heart space is good strategy regardless of the slow pace. But much more “I don’t know what I want to do” and victimhood is not far behind. Nobody has time for that.
Instead, today I have been quiet with the intention of moving slowly through my obligations and out the door into the snowy world behind it.
My library is still neglected and my bed unmade. I’ve allowed my day to wander.
Yoga did not make the morning’s cut. Neither did bathing or changing into non-pajama clothes until a few minutes ago. Lunch looked a lot like breakfast (plain Greek yogurt, frozen berries, oats, and sunflower seeds) only lunch was served from the Fage container in which it was sold.
I’ve two items on my to-do list which must be done: minutes from an annual meeting and some banking. Last week, I knocked out every other item on that weekend’s list, but these two. Today is the day.
And then I’ll mosey into my hiking boots, throw a few books and my grocery list into a bag, and “parallel play” with the fella and his cat while his world moves a bit. I’ll be quiet and allow the day to move slowly. Hopefully, some sledding will happen.
Perhaps slowing down is me doing my part better. Being brave and all that.
Trusting people to do their part at work and play.
As you know, encountering people and their shenanigans takes derring do, but what else is this life for, but for people?