If you find one thing wearisome, you will find everything wearisome.
The Critter has been out of school for a week now. In that time, we’ve fallen into a comfortable rhythm, based on mealtimes, nap times, and our need to get outside. Insofar as there is any ease to our days, it is because of this rhythm.
Nevertheless, I am often weary with the pattern of our days. Here we are again at the playground, I think. When will it be lunchtime? And then, Lunchtime again, I think. When will it be nap time? And so on and on until I find myself again sitting on the bed, nursing the Gnome for another night of sleep — and I wonder, Where did the day go?
What is it that I want, other than what’s right here? I have no idea.
This rhythm as it is now is not going to last. I’ll be taking on more work soon. We’ll be going away for a vacation. The Gnome will be sitting up, learning to crawl; and, before we know it, the days will be cool again and the Critter going back to school.
And anyway, thoughts of the changes to come offer little comfort.
I do my best, in fact, when I forget entirely about the future. And by the future I don’t mean “in five years” or “next month” or even “tomorrow.”
I want to stop thinking about what’s next. Stop thinking about the dishes I need to clear from the table. Stop thinking about having to persuade the Critter to take a nap. Stop thinking about the job that’s due today. Stop thinking about managing dinner and bedtime without Brian tonight.
In a sense, as long as I give myself over to the rhythm of the day, all of that has already been taken care of.
What’s right here? The whole thing.