Oh hey! It has been awhile. Months in fact. Busy, good months. We have been building a house, starting a flower farm, beginning a new school year, and that kind of thing. Busy things. And really, I am thankful for that busyness. It makes life feel zesty when there is so much to accomplish in each day. But occasionally there are days that feel a little less than zesty. And for some reason, there have been a few over quota of those days lately.
On Monday, I was walking the dogs after school and a group of very loud geese flew overhead. Since geese are one of my very favorite things about fall, I took a picture. But as I looked at it, I realized I wasn't going to post it to instagram. It was rather unremarkable. One of those pictures that only has meaning for the person who took it. I was the one standing there listening to their wild, flying cries and feeling that mournful, fall-is-so-fleeting echo in my own heart. To anyone else, it would be blah. You could hardly see the geese. The sky was not a sunset splendor. All the leaves had blown off.
It was just an evening. The quiet, ending of a busy day.
For the rest of my walk, I noticed this quietness. The lackluster sunset, the leafless trees, the graying twilight.
Somehow it began to feel like balm to my soul.
There has been a lot of busyness in life these past months, but it doesn't feel like there has been a lot of accomplishing. And being busy looses it's zestiness when not much is being accomplished.
Somehow this whole perfectly average evening made me realize that statistically there has to be a lot of averageness in life. (Hence "average.") Not every day can be a red letter day. There will be days that are lackluster. Days that feel like a slog. And that is okay. I would like to blame society or instagram culture for my unrealistic expectations, but honestly, I am pretty sure that is just how I have always been. Someone recently told me (in my performance review, no less) that if the grandiose goals I have in my head didn't get accomplished I act like I didn't get anything done. My response was pretty much well, duh. I didn't get my goal. I failed.
But in real life there is a lot of in-between. Goals are not met as soon as they are set. There are likely three thousand inspirational quotes that speak to this phenomenon. (I am completely unoriginal.)
There are days busy with things that probably won't matter much in a week but would have mattered if they hadn't been done.
But that is living. And to enjoy it on a regular basis, I need to appreciate the process, the in-between.
There are way more cloudy half moons in the world than lush, supermoons. And if I can't appreciate the cloudy half moons, I am missing a lot of wonder and appreciation in my life.
When we are talking about the moon, I feel wise and deep and accepting. Cloudy half moon? Sure, I got this. But if we are talking an actual example from real life...
Our half done house is one of the current, real life processes I am trying rather unsuccessfully to enjoy. I keep setting goals that have nothing to do with reality since I have literally no idea how long all the different aspects of house building take. I just spout things off and Justin rolls his eyes and proceeds to just keep on doing what needs to be done.
As I came through the woods that evening, Justin had the lights on inside, working on the sheetrock. It looked more like a house. I could almost imagine it being our home. Where we live. Almost. But then my brain started thinking about the what-needs-to-be-done and that contentment with how things are slipped away.
And then I got frustrated with myself for not already accomplishing the goal of being appreciative of the process.
Ironic.
But for just a moment, on a Monday evening in November, just before the sun sank into a cloudy horizon behind leafless trees, I felt an appreciation for quiet things, for the process, for the in-between.
And for now, that will have to do. Because I am still working on that.
