Not So Bigness

In my early married years, I was fanatical about the house. Every night after I put our little ones to bed, I spent the next hour or so putting every toy, shoe, sock, book, paper, or whatever back into its "proper" place. The kitchen garbage went out to the dumpster (partially because we lived in New Jersey where cockroaches came out of the woodwork when darkness descended), the dishes were re stacked on the shelves, the floor was swept, and clean laundry was folded and placed in the drawers.

I made up bottles of formula, restocked diapers, and prepared every needful thing to ease the onslaught of surviving a new day. Any remaining time which was very little was spent reading or doing needlework before hitting the sack with total exhaustion. A clean house gave me a sense of control and established some structure over my otherwise hectic, chaotic life with newbie twins, a two year old, and a husband in a stressful, demanding residency program. I longed for the day of having a minute of leisure time to pursue a hobby, to chew the fat, or enjoy some peace and serenity in life.

Those years are long gone and I now have the luxury of deciding what to do with my time. I no longer have the urge or desire to straighten my house each night or run the garbage out except when it overflows. I miss reading stories to my kids and watching them discover the magic ball of a potato bug.

I miss sitting on the steps of the front porch for hours on end while they played outside.

I miss watching them drag their little plastic three wheelers up the hill then racing down as fast as possible, squealing with delight over and over again. But I don't miss the hectic pace that life delivered each day.

As each New Year approaches, I like to evaluate things from the prior year to determine what worked or didn't work and what I would like to change or accomplish. Last year was not a stellar year. I feel it was more a year of existing or rebuilding things to their status quo rather than creating. Much of it was spent on things I really didn't want to do. The non essentials or things that are supposed to enhance and enrich life life overtook the essentials, or those things I feel provide the basic structure and foundation to keep me balanced and centered.

For example, in January, 78,000 gallons of water burst through our second home in Brian Head. We thought all was under control until April when the insurance company sent up some water mitigation folks to make a final inspection before closing the file. That was when all *&%$#* broke loose. Upon measuring a high water content throughout the house, they tore up hardwood floors, sheet rock, insulation, cabinets, toilets, etc. Our house was in shambles. It took months and many weekends to put it back together. Way too many weekends. And way too much worry. This is a place that was meant to provide relaxation and serenity to life.

Last fall, after spending hours and days blowing leaves, mulching, sweeping and cleaning the yard, the hellacious December windstorm struck with 102 mph winds. We lost huge trees, bushes, and electricity. Our yard was strewn with branches and leaves resulting in six truckloads of stuff collected and hauled off to the green station. The newly installed soffit and fascia blew off our home along with shingles on the roof of an apartment building we own. Waaa, waaa, waaa.

If nothing else, it reinforces the fact that we cannot always control external situations. These things happen. But what I realize, is that many of the things I can control such as clubs, boards, concerts, galas, external obligations, subscription series, etc. were so jam packed in my year that I had little flexibility to spend time elsewhere.

With that in mind, I have decided to remodel my life and clean out much of the clutter. I desire to spend more time being present with Mark, to be perhaps a bit more free for spontaneity, and to be available to serve or help where needed. I like the "Not So Big Life" concept to make room for what really matters. Can I really do it?

Quote:
“There is one thing in this world that you must never forget to do. If you forget everything else and not this, there’s nothing to worry about, but if you remember everything else, and forget this, then you will have done nothing in your life.

It’s as if a king has sent you to some country to do a task, and you perform a hundred other services, but not the one he sent you to do. So human beings come to this world to do particular work. That work is the purpose, and each is specific to the person. If you don’t do it, it’s as though a priceless Indian sword were used to slice rotten meat. It’s a golden bowl being used to cook turnips, when one filing from the bowl could buy a hundred suitable pots. It’s a knife of the finest tempering nailed into a wall to hang things on.

You say, “But look, I’m using the dagger. It’s not lying idle.”

Do you hear how ludicrous that sounds? For a penny, an iron nail could be bought to serve the purpose. You say, “But I spend my energies on lofty enterprises. I study jurisprudence and philosophy and logic and astronomy and medicine and all the rest.” But consider why you do those things. They are all branches of yourself.

Remember the deep root of your being, the presence of your lord. Give your life to the one who already owns your breath and your moments. If you don’t, you will be exactly like the man who takes a precious dagger and hammers it into his kitchen wall for a peg to hold his dipper gourd. You’ll be wasting valuable keenness and foolishly ignoring your dignity and your purpose.”-Rumi

This whole concept of not so big may sound ironic as we prepare to leave in April
for base camp of Mt. Everest, the biggest, most majestic mountain in the world. But in one sense, I have had to clear my life to do something I have always wanted to experience, something that matters to me. I am gently reminded that Mark and I are not getting any younger, so if we don't make arrangements and prepare now, when will we ever do it?

I guess it boils down to taking a look at my life, deciding what I want to do, what I want to accomplish, how I want to do that, and pruning those things that detract. I look forward to a new year and the opportunity of making it meaningful. I have begun my life's remodel. Let's see how it goes!