I hope you won’t be looking for some philosophical discussion or enlightenment here. I do know there is a rhythm to life, a cycle that repeats itself in humanity as well as in nature, as is visible in our lives on many levels. But, that’s all you’re going to get here.
Today I’m thoroughly wrapped up in my own, petty little cycles. Looking back on the last week, I realize that I can’t account for much of my time. Oh sure, there were some gym visits, the dentist, and a physical therapy appointment. My cat saw the vet and I finished a book.
But, what of those other hours that seem to have disappeared into the boonies with those spent rolling hair onto orange juice cans, lifting heavy books to build a bust, attempting to learn to knit, and living a week on the all-avocado diet? All to naught and maybe the better for it, but if that seemingly wasted week manages to cycle around again, what have I learned from it? This dilemma came to me a few minutes ago, while ironing, mind you.
If I could spend even six hours a day doing what I really want to do, would that be possible? Six hours of reading, writing and watching Downton Abbey (ok, so that’s a seasonal thing). If I could spend half an hour writing here and an hour and a half on my book, and then one hour reading a book, or even magazine – that’s three hours accounted for.
What if I added an hour working on my Italian citizenship and sorting things that need to be gotten rid of before we move next fall, and maybe an hour just contemplating why my hair seems to moving from my head to my chin? Ok, that’s the six hours. Add that to the gym, the dentist, doctor appointments, laundry, cleaning, doing paperwork, answering nuisance phone calls, and, yes, ironing … I’m struggling to see how it’s possible. Is there really enough time in my day? Am I just not clever enough or motivated enough to fit all those things in around the “stuff” that has to be done?
My husband has always said that I get more done when I have more to do. I don’t know it that works for me anymore, if it ever did. I appeared more productive when I worked – I used my time better. But then, it seems I used it only to get those necessary items completed – not lolling about reading a book and eating bon bons.
As I’m type this sentence I hear the buzzer on the dryer and there are three more shirts to be ironed. I didn’t spend an hour writing this or anything else. Should I be content with 15 minutes here and 15 minutes there? How do I find a way to fit the must-do’s around the would-like-to-be-doings when I can’t find time for the want-to-be-doings at all. I don’t understand how working people or moms at home with kids get anything other than “chores” finished in a day.
I’m reminded of something my mom instilled in me early, as her mother had her before:
Wash on Monday,
Iron on Tuesday,
Bake on Wednesday,
Brew on Thursday,
Churn on Friday,
Mend on Saturday,
Go to meeting on Sunday.
That’s the cycle of my life, except that I don’t know what kind of “brewing” I should be doing. Alas, the dryer buzzer is sending a second warning before it turns my clothes into wrinkled messes and I have to throw a wet cloth in and give them a damp-dry. I left the iron on, too.