Feeling Today

As I headed out to pick up one of my kids from school, not rushing, not dashing from something else, not squeezing in the pickup between other commitments, I felt a lovely calm. I could walk, not run. I could enjoy, not worry. I could arrive with a look of joy on my face, not with a look of stress.
 
I have spent the majority of my parental life either having others retrieve my kids or scrambling to fit my own retrieving into an overbusy life. I have raced the clock, banked on on-time trains, and made frantic "I'm running late" phone calls. I have sweated and apologized and felt not good enough. So today, as I walked calmly and arrived on time, I felt an incredible peace. Today, as I walked home sharing a snack and hearing about the ups and downs of a school day, it didn't matter what all those other days had been. Today, as I was neither sweating nor worrying, it didn't matter what tomorrow would be.
 
Sometimes, the very best thing you can do is just feel today.

Mistakes In The Rain

We took a cab for a trip usually done on foot or by bus. It was raining, and we were tired, so it seemed like the best idea. Until I realized that it's harder to get a cab in the rain. Until I realized that it's harder for a cab to get anywhere in the rain.
 
Before I knew it, our short cab ride, from which we jumped out before our destination, had turned into an expensive (well, at least for ten blocks) trip, during most of which I groaned and fidgeted and drove my kids crazy.
 
As we got out, walking the last few blocks in the rain, my kids were quick to say, "It's okay. It happens," to which my (silent) reaction in the moment was "Would you think it was okay if it were your money?" But as I calmed down a bit in the rainy fresh air, I realized that perhaps they were right. Things do happen, and not always the way we'd like them to. Money has to be spent, not always in the way we'd choose. Time has to be squandered, not always in the ways that make us feel satisfied. Things don't always turn out the way we'd like. And we survive. We get a little wet, when we thought we'd be dry. We take a little longer, when we thought things would be quick. We spend hard-earned funds on things other than must-pay bills and ice cream sundaes. And we move on.
 
I made a mistake (or at least it felt that way), and then we moved on. Next time, maybe I'll choose differently--or not. And either way, then, as now, I guess we'll just move on...

Day of the Freelancer

The day stretched out in front of me--a full day--minus a nap to prepare for my overnight shift--to catch up, clean up, and generally recover from a hasty exit from town and a hasty return to town.
 
But what the freelance life giveth, the freelance life taketh away. Before I knew it, my overnight shift starting many hours from now had become a double shift starting much sooner. What was to be catch up time became pack up time. What was to be a vast stretch of time became just a snippet.
 
And that is basically what freelancing is. For all of the times when freelancing means that your schedule can be your own, there are other times when you realize that no schedule is ever really your own. For all of the feeling that you can say "no," there is the added feeling that "no" might mean "nice knowing you."
 
So, as a freelancer, I say "yes," not always, but often. As a freelancer, I understand that things can change at a moment's notice. As a freelancer, I realize that one of my greatest assets is being able to roll with the punches, whether the punches are lack of sleep, upended schedules, or mastering tasks I've never done before.
 
The day that stretched out in front of me slipped away. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe it simply slipped into something just a little different...because often, that's how it goes when you're a freelancer...

Frenzy

As my inbox fills with assorted reminders of Cyber Monday, it's hard not to get caught up in it all--the feeling that if I don't act right now, I'll be missing something, the sense of opportunity passing me by. It is an effectively created frenzy. I am quite sure that the gifts I wait a week to buy will be just as good (and in many cases, just as cheap), but it is hard not to buy into the feeling that I must do it tomorrow or I will be out of luck.

Frenzy is not a good thing for me on a Sunday night. Even as a freelancer for whom these days, Sunday isn't always the end of my weekend, I have enough frenzy on Sunday. There is homework to be packed, there is a routine to resume, and there are deadlines to meet. The last thing I really need, on this or any day, is a little more manufactured frenzy.

One could argue that we thrive on frenzy--that the things that get done get done more reliably when there is frenzy behind them. One could argue that frenzy, not calm, keeps life interesting--keeps us always guessing, always reaching to catch up with the next big thing.

I'm all for keeping up and reaching higher. As for frenzy, I'd like to think I can do better--better than jumping through the next hoop, better than getting caught up in all the hype. So, while I may not blindly delete every Cyber Monday email, I won't be spending my whole tomorrow frantically online for the next bargain or the rest of my tomorrows on line frantically looking for the next big thing. There's nothing wrong with a little excitement, but when excitement turns into frenzy, it's time to take a step back--so that maybe we can actually take a step forward.

Still

Sometimes, it feels as if there's so much running and chasing and searching for and going after. And then, every so often, there's a time when the weather or your location or your current circumstances say you can't run right now. You can't chase today. You have to pause from your search and take a break from the going after. You just have to be still.

It is in the still that we discover we can do a lot with a little. It is in the still that we find new ways to think and different ways to spend our time. It is in the still that we realize stopping can be as important as going. It is in the still that when we look, we really see.

There will be time for running tomorrow. There will be need for searching and chasing and going after before we know it. For just a moment, we may as well enjoy the still.

Ten Minutes With Seuss

At the end of a long and less than productive day, I come upon Dr. Seuss. No matter how many kids' books people unload over the years, Dr. Seuss tends to remain. Somehow, it is sentimental, or relevant, or entertaining, or all of the above, no matter what your age.

This particular one is Oh, The Places You'll Go!, a Seuss almost meant for grownups, or those on the cusp of grownuphood. As I read it aloud (because who wouldn't read Seuss aloud?), I am struck on each page by how relevant it is--to my kids, of varying ages and stages of life, and to me, now, as much as it was when I was when graduating or starting work or being out of work. It jumps right to the fear we all experience. It rather fearlessly reminds us, the readers, that we are stronger and more resourceful than we seem (or realize). Entirely in rhyme, it grants us being overwhelmed by the most terrible of things, and then reminds us that there are paths out of just about everything.

On a daily basis, we are much more often reading fiction or non-fiction or self-help or the newspaper to figure out our world and our place in it. Sometimes, we succeed in our figuring. For me, just ten minutes with Seuss opened my eyes in ways those other things often haven't. Seuss may not have given me the steps to take, but it certainly made me feel strong enough to look for the steps. And sometimes, at the end of a long and not very productive day, a little Seuss strength is a powerful thing.

A Table Full

We gather around a full and festive table, prepared to eat more than we should. We've come from different directions, both geographical and psychological, since last we met. There is catching up to do in between the feasting. Will we feel under- or over-accomplished since last year? Will our stories be ones we are excited to tell, or ones we'd rather leave at the door or sweep under the rug with the pie crust crumbs?

I am always struck by how holidays can be both a break from our day-to-day good and bad and a time to examine all that good and bad more closely while catching new people up on the stories. While I might refrain from dwelling on the mundane, I tend to welcome the different perspectives that the holiday table has to offer. Though I may hold back on sharing absolutely everything, I can't help wanting to welcome some new opinions and learn a little from the other people's experiences of the past year. When I think about what I am thankful for, it may include all the yummy treats on the table. More often, however, I am grateful for the opportunity to escape to a new set of viewpoints. Maybe they make sense, maybe they don't. Either way, they have me leaving the table with not just a stomach full of food, but with a mind full of good ideas to ponder for the future. And that is worthwhile, whether it's over stuffing and sweet potatoes or over tea and toast.