May 2, 2022
My default setting is to run my life at reckless pace. Because my mind runs at a reckless pace. I know part of this can be accounted for in the personality I was formed with, a desire given to me to want to pursue better, for me, for the people around me.
The gift of always wanting growth comes with the challenge of a rushed nature, a forward leaning mind instead of one planted in the present. My unsanctified state, which is easy to fall back into is: it needs to be done, and done right now,
and it probably really needs to be done my way, because I know what I’m doing. (ha ha ha)
Sometimes I crawl under the covers at night and it washes over me: that deep knowing, that I didn’t stay present, I wasn’t in my day, and if I’m not careful my whole life could go by and I won’t have experienced many hours of it, not truly,
not with intentional presence, because I wasn’t here, now. I was there, then.
The freedom I’m finding is that I don’t have to give up my gift of dreaming extravagantly to live presently.
I can both desire and pursue growth, while planting my heart and mind firmly in my Wednesday morning, cleaning up spilled milk and wiping down sticky, jammy toddler hands. Appreciating the way the light hits my kitchen table and floors, really listening to the sounds of my own home and children,
I can be here, seeing, smelling, tasting, touching, hearing, I can choose that.
And all that requires of me is as simple as it is hard: having boundaries.
For too much of my life boundaries felt like the walls to push up against purposefully.
I’ve realized with time, boundaries are a gift I can give myself, so I can be where I am, living in my purpose, being able to breathe a sigh of relief because I know I’m in the right place, doing the things I’m accountable for at the present moment.
There’s a time and place for each of the things life requires of me.
It doesn’t get divided up evenly each day, but over the course of a week, when I live within the proper boundaries, the important tasks get done and can be done without fluster and frustration.
Late spring, early summer after Emerson was born I transformed into a mad woman. Like: couldn’t stop pacing, sweating, writing things down, talking about, working towards, and sweating over a large business goal. I had a newborn that literally didn’t stop crying for 4 months straight,
leaky boobs, an adventurous one year old, and somehow I decided setting a preposterous goal in my business was appropriate. I was barely managing our household and my nerves, but hey, why not heap a lot of pressure on myself?
I don’t guilt myself for wanting to chase my big dreams, but if I could go back one year ago today I would be a gentle and kind voice, a friend to myself, a little hug, a little tough love, and I would set real boundaries.
Because within the walls of my boundaries there is actual freedom. Freedom to work my business, when it’s appropriate. Freedom to just be mama, and not feel like that isn’t enough. Freedom to do the household chores without feeling like I’m missing out on other things.
Within the boundaries of my life, I can live and drink deeply of the life giving water— the purpose God set before me, and only me, in that special way He does for each of us.
With intentional lines drawn in the sand of my life, I find peace.
Many times we just think if we had more time, we’d do the things we wanted. If there were more hours, we’d make time for that book, in our favorite chair near the window. But it tends to be the more time we have the more those “important” tasks seem to pop up and add themselves to our calendar.
I’ve never lived without, but sometimes I imagine what it would’ve been like, not owning a washer. Either of the clothes or dishes variety. The electric washers exist to save humans so many hours a week. I am imagine what it would’ve been like being a woman dreaming of the day I’d be free of the chore, wondering what I could do with all the freedom, what I’d tell my husband I could do with all the time waiting for me on the other side of just owning those tools. Thinking somehow if I just had that… things would really work out.
It’s a funny thought isn’t it. Where has that time gone? Is the saved time not hand washing clothes and dishes spent reading to children or enjoying the sunshine, taking a walk or learning to bake something new? It seems like the gift of more hours in a week has just disappeared. Like the hours never existed at all.
That’s what happens when to time though. Like money, if it isn’t given a purpose, it just seems to leave of it’s own accord.
There is no pretty bow or beautiful thought to end all of this with. It’s just what I was thinking this morning and it felt important to write it down. So I’m doing more of that, more quiet so I can have these thoughts, more space for pen and paper.
