I make lunch the night before; do yoga first thing; then come home from work and play with my boys. The three of us take a long walk down the melting muddied road. It is pock marked with potholes: perfect circles of mud and splashy water, just right for jumping, which Bean does in his black and yellow rain boots. I love the way he pauses before each jump, placing his feet together, crouching down, getting the most out of his small muscled legs. The water goes everywhere in satisfying droplets. I love too the way he pauses to fish around in the muddy, icy cold water, then stands up triumphant: “I found a beautiful rock!” he yells.
I make lunch the night before, circling the counter unaccustomed to thinking about food at 9:38p.m. Especially not a chicken & arugula wrap, fresh berries and yogurt, walnuts and raisins. In the morning I slip from my bed and turn the shower on before thinking. I stand bleary, rubbing my eyes, my feet on the looped lavender bath mat. Then I turn the water off, circle the house, find my yoga mat and breathe. After the fourth or fifth sun salute I realize that the entire right side of my body aches: my ear, throat, hamstrings, ankle bones. I apologize to my body for just living in it so often, without thinking. I take my vitamins. I turn the shower on again. I exfoliate. I let hot water pound on my back until I know it’s made my skin lobster red. I linger. Then I plunge towards the day.
I am trying to live this month as intentionally as I can. Taking care of myself. Making the whirling chaos of my day to day life less chaotic. It’s all about the small things, that I’ve given too little thought to. The things that ultimately bear the Morse code of self discipline. Food. Exercise. Laundry. Dishes. Creativity.
I loved reading your lists about the things you’d do if living “perfectly” for a month. Now I’m wondering: what stops you from doing them? What stops us all, really?
What keeps me from those things…
Overcommitment
Guilt
Deadlines
Demands
Weariness
So much of that stuff is in my control…so why don’t I do a better job of creating those perfect scenarios?
Fear
Worry
Insecurities
Hmmmm…I’ve got some work to do.
As always…thank you for your words, for your heart.
Thank you for this reminder to be present. I think if we can achieve even just a moment of presence here or there – that is living as close to perfect as is comfortable. Living perfectly? I don’t know if I’d like that when all is said and done. What would I have to work on if my life was lived perfectly? What impetus would we have to better ourselves or our world? My life is a journey and just when I think I “get” it, the rules change or priorities shift. Maybe learning and growing and struggling on the journey *is* living perfectly. (It’s all perspective, right?) So what keeps me from living my “perfect” life all the time? It’s hard work!
Rabbits. They stop me constantly. Always chewing, chewing, chewing.
Well, I’ll be another voice of dissent and say that the idea of trying to live ‘perfectly’ makes no sense to me. Who’s to say that what I deem ‘lacking’ doesn’t contain its own symmetry? And then of course I would need to define perfection. I got into a discussion several years ago with a buddhist teacher who averred that perfection didn’t exist. There was no ease in this affirmation for me. So I took it home and sat with it for awhile and came to the conclusion that perfection does exist but only inside the seeking of itself. And now several years later I would say the word ’seeking’ here is a less complete word for ‘noticing’.
Thank-you for sharing yourself so generously.
I agree with Meaghan–what is living perfectly really? Does any living thing on this planet achieve that? And by whose standards? Life is indeed a journey. If we spend too many hours gazing over the fence at the house next door we don’t ever realize how amazing our own home is. The same goes for our lives. We have what we have. We do what we do. We are the best we can be, every second of every day with the strength and talent we are lucky to be blessed with. We must learn to celebrate the good times and the bad, because indeed, without one the other would become invisible–like light without anything to reflect against. So, forget about perfection. Just enjoy, and learn how to forgive yourself for that forever to do list that doesn’t shrink, and for all those “other people” who “seem” to have it made. They don’t!
xxoo
e
And stopping:
Sheer exhaustion and how easy it is to take the lazy way out. It’s sad what brings us joy–accomplishment–and how often we step away from it. I am tired, so I will nap. I will read in bed. But that long walk outside? Well, I think I need to promise myself I’ll do it. And go.
This post, more than the previous one, has stayed with me. The very act of ‘noticing,’ ‘being present,’ ‘awareness,’ whatever you want to call it has been my elusive white rabbit in the last few years. It used to seem so easy. Hell, way back, I wrote a series of poems just based on the air around me on different mornings. It was so true and luscious.
So this post captivated that and truly illustrated your intent of living ‘intentionally.’ Whether it’s perfect or not, it’s about your life, your existence within it and what you choose to build your days from.
It’s not easy. And I applaud your efforts and in my own little ways am trying to emulate the idea in my own hours.
[...] at my exercise book before I began. I moved through the positions slowly, gingerly. I remembered something Christina once wrote, and apologized to my body for my months of benign neglect. It’s all I could do, besides [...]