Sunday, March 21, 2010

Sunday. First Day of Spring.

Sunday mornings are becoming habitual in this odd new life at Grandma's. 

I try to sleep late.  For me that means maybe 9:00.  It's slightly easier to do in the dark basement.

Then I lay quietly in bed, watching a movie or television on dvd, or maybe playing a game.  Waiting.

Once I know that's Grandma has left for church, I roll out of bed and start my own day.

I do the things that are just easier to do when she's not watching and critiquing.  Laundry - sheets and towels, and my clothes.  Taking out the garbage (on a week when my bedroom garbage can is full) and the recycling.  Breakfast.  On Sunday mornings I treat myself to something different than the granola bar or pastry I eat the rest of the week.  Usually that means frozen waffles, popped in the toaster, and then slathered with butter and maple syrup.

I love these Sunday mornings when the house is empty.  When I can stand in the kitchen waiting for my breakfast to cook without having to pay attention to Grandma's end of a mostly one way conversation, making sure I add a one or two word response in the right place. When I can move fairly freely around the house, enjoying space and quiet.

Today, though, I'm thinking about how I enjoy, too, the feeling of productivity.  Of marking things off of my list for the day or for the week.

Today is the first official day of Spring.

And I'm trying to think differently.

I spent a lot of time with various people in my life yesterday.  People I hadn't seen since the move.  People with whom I could be bluntly honest about the many challenges of life at Grandma's. 

But it didn't really make me feel better to share all the grumpy honesty, though I thought it would.  Mostly it just made me feel like crying, feel buried in the grossness of this situation that I just don't know how to adapt to.

And I'm thinking about spring, and new seasons this morning.

About the fact that 220 days ago I started making daily 5 lists in an effort to choose joy more consistently in my life.

About a sermon I listened to, the day I met Stan last summer.  The one that talked about postponing joy.

And I'm wondering if I've been doing that again?  If the looking forward to living elsewhere, the negative motivations ("well, at least I have lots of incentive to pay off my debt!") are not postponing joy in the moment?

There's a renewed thought in me that it's time to find the best in this again.  To choose viciously to be thankful that I have a place to live.  That this will help me pay down debt.  That there is a car coming my way just after Easter.  That I am healthy, and that I have friends who are providing time away from my odd new living situation.  That my health is now letting me be out more often.

A friend of mine sent me a notepad at Christmas.  Across the top in colorful letters is emblazoned the word "HOPE".  I pulled it out this morning and made my list for the day on it, and somehow, that word reminded me that I need to choose that hope and joy again.

I'm pretty sure it'll be one of the biggest challenges around.  But it's quite literally a new season today, and maybe I'm up for the challenge.  (Maybe I can start by choosing not to hate that I have this new challenge to face?)

And I'll start by having a day that balances productivity and necessary rest.  Because that, too, seems like a good place to start.