Yesterday I received an Interior Design book in the mail to review. From the Apartment Therapy folks. Beautiful. Reminds me of my roots. Degree in same subject way back in college. Years previous to that filling notebooks with cutouts of rooms I adored, years since with gluing photos into journals, re-decorating our home, collecting magazines, etc. Living in clutter. My form of clutter.
Mothering has put certain things on the back burner. I sort of admire women who can juggle children, and find time to do the things that inspire passion in them. Privately think they were blessed with some sort of DNA I'm missing. I tend to have, pretty much, a one-track mind---oh, I can make dinner, read a book and answer the phone. Simple tasks. But things that require much mind work will demand a one-track mind. Time set aside.
Segue.
I have a point, though.
Recently we were inundated with a fly invasion. Had a problem of another sort in the crawl space under our house, and dealing with that led to the flies. One day last week our kitchen window (thankfully closed) was full of flies. Not pretty. Actually, disgusting. Anyway, now they're all gone (well, let's say they found a way out or are dead) and the previous problem is resolved as well. Nature has a pretty cool way of managing, uh, nature.
So, second son who's still visiting is tall. Like 6'-5". This comes in handy when I can't raise the kitchen window. I just couldn't get purchase on it. No matter if I slung my leg up on the counter, used a screwdriver to wedge under the window handle or whatever. I think it had swollen and just wouldn't budge. Second son raised it and there were flies in all their glory inside the ledge. Oldest daughter stood there for moral support, handed me the Mrs. Meyer's lavender spray while I cleaned out the window with a hand full of paper napkins. Repeatedly. After a minute or so of doing this, which didn't take long, she commented that it was restful to watch me clean it up. Said it was calming. Huh.
Maybe I was deliberate. I know I wasn't hurrying, just doing a task, but maybe I was actually doing it right. Being mindful.
That's the thing. Paying attention to the little things. Being present and not making a mad dash even at minor tasks.
More and more I'm seeing folks with dazed expressions on their faces. Engaging in conversations with people out in the world is getting more difficult. The younger generation finding it more of a challenge to connect. Reminds me of the Stepford Wives. Cardboard cut-outs of humans. I think we can thank too much technology for this tragic phenomena. Begin to talk, get interrupted with those surreptitious peeks at the phone. Won't abide it with my living-away-from-home children, but see it frequently at church. And it's not just the younger folks. A new regular (my age) visitor at our church has joined the choir and got privately reprimanded for playing Candy Crush during Communion. Really? Are we so addicted to the wrong behavior?
Connecting. Engaging with life. Stopping long enough to really pay attention. Living your life. Not allowing nonsense to overpower real life.
So this flips back to my enjoyment of decorating, what I was trained to do, but which has gotten lost in the muddle of my middle years. Now I appear to be waking up, taking life a bit more slowly and really, enjoying it more. It just takes the time to take the time. Dwell on that for a bit.
And enjoy your day.
