August is over, and I’m not really sure where it went. It was luxurious to be home, watering plants, sleeping in my own bed, walking the dog. For work, I had more meetings this month than I did in an entire semester previously. I’m 2 weeks behind my admin work, but I’m getting there.
The man went back to school this week, the alarm buzzing at the ungodly hour of 5:30AM. The best I’ve hit is 6:15. He’s tired, works all day, and sits head bent over more work at home. This is our 3rd transition, and I think we have the hang of it now. I’m able to empathize with his exhaustion and give him space to get his routine going again.
Meanwhile, my new schedule still feels like calamity. The days at the office fly by, my energy wearing off quickly, and there doesn’t seem to be enough time for all the meetings, emails and spreadsheets. Nothing is in dire shape, but I can feel that mantra of “Tomorrow I’ll catch up” running rapid through my brain. Cuz, guess what? Tomorrow is already full of meetings and then it’s Friday, which is a good catch-up day, but then we have a 3-day weekend and I have yet to edit the newsletter due on Tuesday in Dreamweaver. I have yet to learn Dreamwaver… or even open the program for that matter.
But what I really want to talk about is pancakes, because who doesn’t want to talk, eat, dream about homemade pancakes?
A few weeks ago we wanted pancakes and didn’t have any mix left. We had the brilliant idea to cook some from scratch. And what do you know, they were freakin’ delicious! So delicious that we wanted them again the next day, and then a few days later, and we ended up making about 5 batches of pancakes in 2 weeks.
And isn’t that a testament to how far I’ve come? To accept life as it’s happening. Because if you don’t recognize the slowness and nurturing that goes into a batch of pancakes, then you are missing those much larger moments in your life. If the first one burns, you think your whole day is ruined. If there’s syrup all over the table, you think “What’s the use?”.
But here, really, is the small string of pearls that loops us through our days. Nothing is ruined. Everything is “of use”. It’s all worth it. The lumps, the burned edges, the stickiness and that endless pile of dishes. Especially that pile of dishes. Because that is what makes up our moments, our days, our lives.
To sit on a warm beach, to ride a bike at dawn through cool streets, to feel your lovers’ feet run against your own, to read a book late at night, to blast the radio in the car, the feeling after you get a haircut, taking a hot shower, or a cold one, cuddling your pet, kissing…
August is over, and we’re back to school. Each day I’m learning more about my life and my capacity to deeply appreciate all I have.
(p.s. if you want to read more about how your life really is about the dishes, the laundry and walking the dog, read Cheerio Road)