It's over. Summer came and went and was glorious. The heat will persist for a good month or two, but the freedom to flap about like a clothes-lined shirt won't be back for another nine months.
The resurgence of busy has worn me slap out, like jumping from a 5K to a marathon within a week. Even though we homeschool, our days are not typically spent on field trips and nature walks...much as I would like that. We have schedules and obligations much like the rest. Couple that with a little teaching on the side, my first gig in 2 1/ 2 years.
Once an activities addict, I now run from obligation and responsibility as if it will trigger relapse. Never very savvy with taking life "one day at a time," I look at Fall in its entirety and want to make like a bear. Hibernation sounds nice. And quiet.
I'm learning to find quiet in unconventional ways. Quiet is a state of mind. And a gift. More and more I'm caught day-dreaming. More and more stealing scraps of time to run off with book and journal until the tiny, pajama-clad troops come knocking.
Busy-ness is toxic. Manning says, Our controlled frenzy creates the illusion of a well-ordered existence. We move from crisis to crisis, responding to the urgent and neglecting the essential.
I do. Neglect the essential that is. I misplace my identity in the busy. The only good and true me. The one my Father calls Beloved. Desperation drives me toward reassurance.
Moving "from crisis to crisis" looks different for everyone. For me it's spilled milk and a crying toddler; a sad friend and late-night prep work; balancing it all and a too-tight budget; accepting the melancholy and simply responding to the immediate.
He is showing me though, that there is life beyond the busy. A life of calm and peace, elusive though it is on any given day. When my eyes suddenly get wet and my nerves quake, when it is too loud and too much, I beg for stillness and He tells me who I am.
Crises still come like waves upon the shore, but there is peace.
How do you find still amid the busy?