Five a.m. daily alarm. Note pad by the bed with a never-ending To-Do List. Bumper-to-bumper morning commute. Emails to answer. Phone calls to make. Problems to solve. Meetings to attend. Appointments to make – and keep. Follow-up to do. Bills to pay. House to upkeep. Birthdays to remember. Cards to send. And on and on and on.
Life. It’s busy. Busier than ever. One would think that in the current techy world we live in, with cell phones and iPads and instant messaging and an abundance of devices intended to make our lives easier, that we would get more done quicker and therefore have more time to slow down. More time to just be. More time to do less. Problem is, we do more. More. More. More.
I am the poster-child of More. You know, the Type A, “get-it-done-so-I-can-do-more” kind. I make a To-Do list every single day. Even on the weekends. This morning is no different. I woke up at 5:00 and by 6:00 I had unpacked the suitcase from my recent work trip, made today’s To-Do List and started a load of laundry. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought, “At some point today I will go sit down and enjoy that new screened-in porch.”
As I scurried around the house thinking of the day’s events and checking off every task in my mind, I glanced out to the porch. The porch that I say I love. The porch that I wanted so I can take time to relax – and do less. So I stopped. I put down the list. I made another cup of coffee. And I sprawled out on the hanging bed. And two hours later I am still here. Listening to the birds sing. Watching the squirrel walk across the top of the fence. Smiling at the rabbit as it hops across the yard. Noticing the leftover rain as it flows from the rooftop through the gutters to the ground. And I like it.
I need to do more of this. More listening. More relaxing. More that becomes less. How about you?