Daily-ness

Life is starting to feel like what I always feared, daily. It's quite routine, mundane, same. Yet, I know there is beauty to be found in the seemingly unbroken rhythm, but some days I have to look a lot harder to find it. Like today.

Wake up, begrudgingly. Rub the sleep out of my eyes. Attempt to muster the strength to engage in some type of quiet time, & try not to fall asleep. Wash, but only if necessary. Dress, always the same clothes, just in a different order. Hurry downstairs, because I'm always late. Eat breakfast, a must. Drive to work. Call Dad on the way, always. Work. Kids. Work. Read. Pretend to work. Kids leave. Go home. Nap, if I'm lucky. Or I simply waste time. Prepare dinner, eat dinner, clean up from dinner. Throw in a dinner date occasionally. Maybe a phone date, read perhaps. Push-ups if I'm being ambitious. Bed, and always too late for not having done much. Repeat.

Daily-ness.

This isn't always the routine, but mostly and definitely as of late. I think it makes it worse that I'm severely lacking in vision at present, asking the "what am I doing with my life" question on the weekly if not daily basis. Sigh.

Life is beautiful, truly. Sometimes filled with pain and confusion, but also filled with joy and laughter, just all within the confines of daily-ness.

I think this is what I feared most before graduating, the daily-ness of life. I feared that it would consume me, overtake me, kill all dreams and ambitions. And currently, I feel like that's what it's doing, if I'm honest. But, there are many things jumbled up in this season that contribute to the general malaise. This is just one facet of many.

But, I am realizing this is one of the very real challenges of "adult life." Daily-ness. Learning to live within the confines of life, work, routine etc. I suppose my personal challenge is to learn to function well within these confines, or perhaps to break out of the confines altogether. But, I wonder anymore if that's truly possible...

To do or not to do

That is the question. At least the one that seems to plague my mind on a regular basis. I feel often caught in my life between the throes of action and inaction, both small scale and large scale, mental and actual.

Do I eat that donut? Do I not eat the donut? Do I go for a run? Do I not go for a run? Do I sit still or get up and do something with myself?

Small scale.


Am I making the best use of every moment? Every Day? My Life?

Large scale.


On the one hand life is just life, pedestrian, day to day, and the small decisions of "do I eat that donut?" are not terribly monumental in the grand scheme of the universe, but on the other hand the small decisions make up the day to day and define, to an extent, the kind of life you live. So, life is just life, but is it?

The sad irony is that this perpetual naval gazing, as my father calls it--the incessant self-analysis--is the very thing that keeps me from truly living full and free. I get so bent upon continually evaluating my progression of self that I often miss the point...
My siblings call it the paralysis of analysis. I can become so consumed with my own process that I almost forget the whole point of the process.

Self-awareness gone bad.

There is definite benefit to being self-aware, but there are also dangers, as evidenced here. I'm not honestly sure how to cease this constant self-analysis, but I suppose I could start by trying to take the advice of a Mr. Bob Newhart...

"Stop it!"

Another day another year

I thought 25 would feel more monumental, but truly it feels like just another day, maybe even less exciting than the average. This is like the last milestone before 40. Alright, maybe 30. I mean I can rent a car now. Whoop. But, I suppose I'm truly not too saddened by the realization that I have little else to "look forward to" age-wise. I'm coming to understand that life is just life. Not that there aren't things to look forward and revel in, but life is truly what we make of it.

We could choose to bemoan the passage of time and years, the diminishing rate of opportunity and the passing potential of life. In this we could opt for the position of the pessimist.

Or...

We could to choose to embrace all that lies ahead, the pregnant potential of now. Choosing to ignore all that is behind and pressing on to what lies ahead. Embracing the beauty of the right now. Because we're not promised tomorrow. We could choose to be the optimist and live for today.

So, two questions stand before me: shall I choose the optimist or the pessimist and what shall I choose to make of this year...?

I suppose we shall see, won't we.

You know you're getting old when...

I think you know you're getting old when you listen to talk radio not because your parents have it on in the kitchen, but because you turned it on. When you cry during a musical, and not because it was boring. When you hear yourself telling people younger than you, "I remember when I was your age..." When you choose to stay home on a Friday night because you want to. When you start getting jury summons. When you opt out of a cup of coffee late at night because you know it'll keep you up. When you start investigating wrinkle creams. Or when you no longer think your parents are crazy, all the time...

So, does this mean I'm getting old?