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Tuesday, July 06, 2010

slowing down

What a relief - I remembered my password despite not posting since May!

I've always thought starting a blog post or letter with 'where did the time go?' or 'the days are flying by!' or 'I can't believe it's July already?!' is particularly lame. Nothing like stating the obvious - of course time has passed, that's what it does, one should not be surprised. That said, I'm about to be very lame.

Seriously, how did so much time pass, so quickly since I blogged last? Two months zipped by in a flash.

I went to the bank today. Yes, I know, how very old fashioned, but it is still the only way to get the money off that piece of paper and into my account!

"Busy morning?" the teller asked.

Um, I don't know how to answer that question.

(I am not failing to blog because I'm super busy. I'm just tootling along, working a couple of days a week, and the minutes tick by just as quickly as they did before, but I'm not busy as such. In fact today I was feeling a bit superfluous to the needs of the world, because the hospital didn't call me on the (one) day I was available this month and I got to knit all morning. How very decadent on a week day.)

So, busy?

"Actually, no. I had a lovely morning."

At which point waves of guilt wash over me, because everyone's busy. It's how we live. Our value as a person is in direct relationship to our busyness - the more busy we are, the more worth we have. So if I'm not busy and stressed and stretched thin in too many directions, what am I good for? How dare I live a life of not busy? One of my brothers even went so far as to say I have a fake life. Ouch.

I wonder though, if, in all the busyness, we've missed the point. What are we busy for? I might not be achieving much in my not busy state (don't worry, I'm still doing a bit), but seriously, what do we achieve in all the rush? Are we doing something meaningful? Are we rushing around because we've forgotten the art of being - just sitting and enjoying stillness and silence? Are we attempting to justify our existence with society's sanctioned form of productivity (making money) because we feel insignificant and useless if we don't? Do we fill our days until they will hold no more to hide the emptiness within?

OK, so knitting midweek is a pleasant idyll. I wouldn't call it 'fake', but a woman cannot live on knitting alone. I see this as a season in my life. I am truly blessed to be able to slow down a little and be less busy. The trick now is not to fall into an egoistic self indulgent state in which I gratify every crafty whim. That would be as vain as all my previous busyness.

I'm still figuring it all out, but if I had to choose between knitting or the rat race, I'd choose knitting any day... at least it produces something I can hold onto.

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