I would have slip-ups from time to time and realize that it was actually Tuesday, but then somehow I'd get right back to it: Yes! It's Wednesday! And tomorrow's Thursday, which means Friday's just around the...
Around 10 last night, when I left my friends' house after dinner and a birthday party, we were talking about what we had to do tomorrow - Wednesday - and it finally sunk in, in basic caveman terms. Today Tuesday. Tomorrow Wednesday. Oh sigh.
I wrote about Mondays on Monday... A day so easy to pinpoint in its difference, its force-quit of the weekend, a reset button that jolts you back into the world of routine and deadlines and errands. But after that, it can blur pretty easily, no matter how many times you check and recheck your calendar. Those middle weekdays slide slowly, clumping together like congealed oatmeal in the kitchen sink, until Friday night when we run the dishwasher and they come out clean and sparkling, while we lounge around on the couch, reveling in the weekend. (PSA: I do actually run my dishwasher more than once a week. My early morning metaphors are a work in progress.)
The thing is, I don't want the days to blur. Even in the midst of routine and schedule and chaos and exhaustion, I would like to keep my head and heart close, within them. Stop pushing towards the next thing on the list - although I do love lists - so okay, maybe I should savor the list. Savor the sense of accomplishment over the smallest item, savor the steps that get to the next. In the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction course I took this fall, we talked about so often being on Autopilot, and being not-so-blissfully unaware of that go-go-go mentality. We don't know it; we just do it. And when parts of the day are not fun, or boring, or routine, or mindless, or even difficult, we tend to truck on through with an almost unconscious attitude of forgetting, of blurring it all together. So even though some blurriness comes from simply keeping the same routine, the way I treat it impacts the way it goes.
The Wednesday that I'm about to face is busy. There's a lot on the list. But I'm going to do my level best not to let it blur. Deep breaths, moments of laughter, letting myself be surprised. Instead of ducking my head to the downpour, I'm going to let the rain into my eyes. Maybe then I'll really see the day.
|A Post-It reminder on my computer at work.|