I'm trying. Truly I am.
I mopped the upstairs bathroom yesterday evening and awoke to find footprint smudges on the floor already.
I stood there for a long moment. Staring.
I am not one who enjoys the cleaning process. After finishing a task, I feel that I have somehow earned the right for the cleaned area to remain clean and untouched for weeks. Amen?
When I see a smudge, a work undone, a mussed area I had spent valuable minutes working on: I immediately release a loud sigh and bend down to fix the imperfection. I have an inner conversation where I grumble and berate those unknowing souls who have added to my to-do list. That ever-growing, never-finished List.
I have realized I am not often an "in the process" person; I enjoy finishing a task; completing and then savoring. Unless it has to do with relationships, conversations. Then I absolutely cherish "the process." But when it has to do with tasks, projects, I longingly await and push toward the end point.
So when I have an extended to-do list, I find myself tense, anxiously striving toward the moment the List is check out, crossed off, crumpled up and tossed into the garbage can. I yearn for unburdened times with my children, my husband, solitary time. Where I don't have any task looming over my spirit; pressing down, tethered to The List.
I desire freedom.
Yet what are the alternatives to those tasks as a momma, as a grown up?
The List.
I am trying, striving to find a balance, a perspective that will "fit." Will fit my preferences, the needs of my family and those around me. That will nourish my spirit and leave a legacy of love, grace, responsibility.
Images from home magazines, makeover shows, glimpses from Pinterest are, unfortunately, embedded in my memory. Such ideas I no longer allow myself to bring new into my home. At least, not during this particular stage of life with little ones running around at my feet! But the images remain as a distant, unreachable, smirking at me possibility.
How encouraged I become from those who allow themselves the vulnerability to share a glimpse into their own loving chaos, imperfection. Hours spent in a home like that, surrounded by a friend and real-lived life is an oasis for me. I can breathe comfortably again. Warms my soul and renews my energy before returning to my own home filled with "rules" I have for myself. Desires for unreachable perfection.
Why do I still long for a calm, scrubbed fresh, shiny and bright house-perfect when, at the same time I feel most at ease in a home overflowing with love and acceptance and grace?
This is the question for me.
I'm still trying to find that place inside, where I can have that same happy sigh in my own home, EVERY SINGLE TIME. Is this possible? Knowing there is that List, but somehow muting its demands. Those demands are invisible to all but me. How can they become more invisible to me, the one they persistently badger, haunt?
This morning, as I stood still and stared so intently at the footprint smudges revealed by the sunlight streaming through the window, I allowed myself that long minute to just stare, truly stare. And then walk away. Without grumbling, without adding that to my List today.
Instead, I saw LIFE. That footprint belongs to someone ever so dear to me. Absolutely precious, cherished. Brings tears to my eyes to even think about it.
I chose to walk away and not wipe off those temporary marks. I desperately want a home of LIFE, of LOVE.
Sometimes I indeed struggle with my desire for clean, for fresh. For calm perfection.
But is there life in those ideals?
WHERE is the life?
I want to find it! I want to chase after those dear ones. I want to be fully there. Not turning back to work on my List.
What else can I "accomplish" besides what I consider List-worthy?
That will be a blessing to another. That will truly refresh my soul, your soul. That will leave a legacy of love. Of grace.
What else can YOU accomplish by the end of today, that is not List-worthy?
We're in this journey together.
Blessings to you,
Elizabeth
