We Will Forever Be Indebted to Seals and Croft
And herein lies the dilemma, and the reason for my post. Today was a blissful day. Unstructured, and yet full. Largely unrushed (except for the evening), and yet productive in its easy-going time. I took Brennan out for donuts and coffee, and we played Madlibs. I took the boys to the library, and upon our return we read for close to two hours (on and off). We had practices and games to close the day, and then I spent an unhurried couple of hours discipling an eager, godly young man. It was perfect. It was fulfilling in its connection to others and investment in the lives of those dearest to me. And it all came about as a result of these simple words: "I don't have anything else I need to do." If it were a school night, I would have needed to get to bed, and so would have cut short my discipleship time. If I had to teach classes the next day, I would likely have spent more time reading "Gardner's Art Through the Ages" than I did "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and "Treasure Island."
But I DO have things to do. I feel like I (and my students) would benefit from my reading a bit more about art and history. I know I need to expand my expertise in Photoshop for a new class I teaching next year. I will never get 10 paintings (let alone 20) done this summer if I don't regularly get out to the studio. And yet I sleep in. I take naps. I do nothing. I relax. I enjoy other pasttimes (as you may notice from the abundance of posts lately). And these are not bad, but am I just procrastinating? Will I get to August and find nothing was accomplished that needed to be? I also spend time being with my kids: making bows and arrows, hunting red-shouldered hawk feathers, reading stories of adventure and character, watching them play sports and adoring their personalities and senses of humor. I spend time with my wife: taking her on extravagant dates, playing volleyball together (something like 3 or 4 times in the last four days!), and even just watching TV. I make myself available to friends, and have time for spiritual development. These things are great, and I need the summer to "catch up" on these things; to spend intense amounts of time on them and realize that, yes, these are the most important things in my life.
I guess what I'm saying is that I sometimes lose the line between relaxing into the flow of what is truly essential as well as taking some time to just REST, and being a bum who never gets out of bed, never gets anything done, and somehow justifies it with the notion of resting (from the past and for the coming school year). Or to put it another way, I have a hard time refusing the things that are most essential the time that they truly deserve (and which, for much of the year,take a backseat to the monster that is school) JUST for the sake of continuing to be "productive" in my "off time." I want to get things done: painting and preparing for the (all-too-steadily-advancing) school year. I want to NOT do things, in order to be with Jesus, family and friends.
The dilemma, I'm afraid, is not new to me. I remember an episode of the NBC comedy "Ed" (about the bowling alley lawyer, not the horse), in which Ed is forced to choose between the writings of Thoreau (one of my favorites) and an inventor who had a near-death experience. Their approaches could not be more different: life is short, so choose only what is essential (or to quote my beloved "Walden":"Simplify, simplify") vs. life is short, and you only get one go-around, so don't miss anything...try it all (as expressed in Willie's book, "Do Everything"). I cannot, nor have I been able to do everything, though I continue to try. I guess I'm bringing myself back to what is basic. Simplifying. Thanks for listening...it's been helpful to hash it out.
So tomorrow I'll wake up and take my dog for a walk. I'll paint in the studio for a few hours. I'll play with the kids. And I won't get hung up on the fact that I can't spend HUGE chunks of time on everything, or that I can't get something done in one fell swoop (which is a crippler for me!). I'll chip away at each important thing a little at a time. Each thing will get a little time. And in the end, another summer day will pass away. Hopefully when I reach this point tomorrow I will "not find that I had not come to live. "














