Busyness

And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 

Matthew 6:27

It's Saturday morning. “Do you think you could wash some silverware, before you eat and head out?” I ask as I point at the mess of utensils next to the sink.“I have to get to the farmers market, then go to the laundromat. Then home again by 10:30 when John comes to drop off the horn.”

Yes, laundromat. I have a washer, but if I use it, I have to wring the clothes out afterward. I’ll be getting a new one after the plumber does some other work for the house. As for the horn, Kay’s played a school instrument for eight years. Now that she’s off to college, we’re looking for a double horn that won’t break the bank.

I continue: “Then I have to get my blog written. And if it’s not too hot after that, work in the yard … And it’s 8:15 now. I don’t know if I’ll have time to hit the market and the laundromat.” After Kay suggests that I could do one or the other after collecting the horn, “I don’t want to make multiple trips if I don’t have to.” I bustle out the door, bags and egg cartons in hand.

A little frantic? I feel tired just writing it.

It’s 11:45 now. Bags of veggies are on the floor by the fridge. The horn is in the living room. And the laundry is clean, even if it's still in the car. I'm at the laptop, but my blog entry won’t be posted by noon this week.

I’ve been practicing yoga and meditation for 2½ years. I tell people they’re the only things that gave me relief after my concussion. And they were. I’ve gained strength and flexibility from the yoga. But I don’t think I’m any better at meditation than when I started. I realize that one's sense of expectation goes up as one gets better at something, but I really feel I’m about where I started. I grin as I remember Liz Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love when she spent some months at an Ashram in India: “I can’t seem to get my mind to hold still. I mentioned this once to an Indian monk, and he said, ‘It’s a pity you’re the only person in the history of the world who ever had this problem.’” I guess my concern isn't unique.

What do you do when the pressures of life threaten to swamp you?

My default is to go a little crazy. I’m not pleasant to be around. No doubt, this has played havoc on my relationship maintenance. I need meditation even if I never do it well. I need to lie in the hammock and watch the clouds. I need to remember that the world doesn’t require much, if anything, from me. I need to breathe, do my own part, and then stop.

The stopping is hard. But it’s necessary.

Be still, and know that I am God!  Psalm 46:10