This and That...

It has been one of those days where I have felt the need to be in motion. Beginning at 6:30 this morning, I have been compelled to stay in motion, flitting from one activity to another. While helpful in getting things done, it certainly leaves one feeling a bit more tired at the end of the day. My only hope is that it will help me sleep better tonight than I did last night. Tossing, turning, and waking up every hour does not lend itself to feeling rested.

Of the things I did today, I am most pleased with how my latest baking experiment turned out. Looking for something to bring to welcome a new co-worker tomorrow, I browsed several websites looking for something simple enough to make, that didn't require a special trip to the store for ingredients, and would be well-received by pretty much anyone.  I chose to make "Magic in the Middles," a recipe I found on King Arthur Flour's wesbite. 

Image from http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/magic-in-themiddles-recipe

I figure the combo of chocolate and peanut butter is one with which you cannot go wrong. (Unlike other bakers who do an amazing job capturing their work in progress, it is best for me NOT to show a step by step version. Seriously, I am perhaps one of the messiest cooks you will ever encounter, and my stuff, while usually tasting pretty good, never looks all that pretty.)

I also planted some seeds that will hopefully sprout into seedlings over the next couple of weeks. If all goes well, I will have a small garden with tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, and green peppers. Fingers crossed that my notorious black thumb doesn't crush my future plans.

Other than that, it was a lot more yard work (despite the overcast skies and chilly air), a long walk while chatting on the phone with my parents, and a few other random chores. Nothing exciting, but enough to keep me busy. Still, I managed to think of several potential blog posts throughout the day--it is strange how certain activities trigger memories that seem not at all related to what you are doing--but actually writing about any of them has proven to be elusive. Has anyone else ever thought that perhaps it would be better to write out a blog entry then type it up to share? While in grad school, I picked up the habit of handwriting a majority of my papers before finishing the final draft. Considering how I used to write everything only on the computer (except for in-class essays, of course), it seems almost like a step backwards technologically. Yet, I still think that perhaps pencil and paper would help me capture some of these fleeting ideas in a way that I can flesh out at a later date. If you haven't figured it out by now, I have a lot to say, even if no one else cares to hear it :)

Alas, today is not the day that I explore the joys of traveling solo, recollect fond memories of watching my tent fly over a cliff, or reminisce about being a member of the defense team working to prove that Ashley Thornhill was not guilty of murder. So, until I manage to get pencil to paper or break down the mental block preventing me from writing anything remotely interesting, I bid you adieu. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and here is hoping you all have an excellent week ahead!

Day of Rest...

Sunday used to be a day of rest, but the tradition of taking some time off to relax and recuperate from the other six hectic days of the week seems like something from the distant past. Long gone are the days of Sunday drives and Sunday dinners, days without agendas. Instead, it is just another day to be productive, to get things done. Something about our culture seems to encourage us to be on the go at all times, regardless of what our bodies, minds, or souls may say. No time for reflection, just more time to "do."

I am guilty of not taking time to rest and relax.  By 12:00 today, I had already made my grandma breakfast (homemade hash browns and a couple of eggs sunny-side up) and cleaned up the kitchen, mowed the lawn and tidied up the mess, taken a shower, and headed up to church for choir practice. Outside of the choir practice, if you add in weekly vacuuming, running errands, preparing meals for the rest of the week, and maybe a run to the library, you have my typical Sunday. If I do anything otherwise, I feel non-productive, as if I am somehow failing in being a good contributor to whatever--if I don't clean house, I am a lousy housekeeper. If I don't run my errands, I am not making good use of my down time If I don't exercise for x number of minutes, I am going to become a fat, lazy slob.

Now, I admit my evenings are quiet, but they usually are. And I guess that by most standards, I am fairly lazy. But I think back to when I lived in Wales, and I remember what it was like to live in a small town where every store outside of the grocery store was closed. There wasn't much one could do outside of hanging out with friends, reading, or taking a walk, so there was not any pressure to do otherwise. (Travel was also always an option, but limited funds sometimes precluded a trip to a larger town, and even then, many things had limited hours of operation.)

I recall how much I enjoyed my walk to church there, taking my time to stroll among the houses, no sense of urgency hastening my steps. I even lingered afterward to talk some with the members of the congregation, which is something I never do here. At some point during the day, I would sit in my room, BBC1 radio on in the background--nothing says relaxation than the quirky mix of techno, Brit pop, and the occasional Bhangra beat--and write in my journal. Sunday was my day to call home, too. Rain or shine, one could find me huddled in the little red phone booth outside the porter's office, checking on how things were going back home. Dinner with my friends lasted far longer than on any other day (there were times we were shooed away by the cafeteria workers). It was simple. It was quiet. It was amazing. I will acknowledge that many of my memories of Wales are surrounded by a warm, fuzzy haze that mitigates all of the negative thoughts and emotions from that time and accentuates all the positives. However, Sunday was consistently my favorite day of the week.

It wasn't easy at first to adjust to this slower pace. Initially, I felt there was always something I had to be doing otherwise. I felt like my day was wasted because I hadn't checked off an arbitrary number of "to-dos" from an imaginary list. Eventually, though, I embraced it, realizing that imaginary list bore no role in my greater happiness. Indeed, sometimes it caused an even greater distress, and I began to wonder what I had been missing in pursuit of being productive--what conversations, what experiences had been lost to complete one more task.

I wish I could recapture the Sundays in Wales. Sadly, as I have grown older, the outside noise has increased ten-fold, and it seems there is always so much more to do, so many things that need my attention that to take th time to shut it all out doesn't seem quite possible. I take that back. It is quite possible, but I am not sure I am ready to do something about it really. There are so many things right now that I want to change in my life, but I have, time and time again, underestimated the sheer force of inertia. It is possible to have the Sundays of yore, but it is difficult when it seems that everyone and everything are conspiring against you...and when you are your biggest impediment, it seems at least ten times harder. Still, it is with small steps that change can occur. Maybe sometime very soon, I will take the steps necessary to reclaim Sunday as a day of rest...and I will remind myself it is possible to stay unplugged for twenty-four hours and not have the world crash in around you.