Today I’m thinking about perspective.
About how we get worked up over things that really don’t matter.
About how we worry that someone doesn’t like us or we spend a lot of time not liking another person. About how that is such a waste of time and energy.
When I think about some of the arguments I’ve engaged in, I wonder at how I let it happen. Like I had so much time to fill, that I had to succumb to the temptation to fight back, to engage.
I see it all the time with my ex. An email comes in, fraught with fluffed-up language and self-righteous anger, and before I can reflect that it’s been longer since we divorced than the time we were together, and this is just such a silly waste of time to keep picking at the old wounds, I reply and we’re off and running.
The other day, I told my divorce attorney that she and I have been in a relationship longer than I was married to my ex. We had a really hearty, soul-relieving laugh.
One decision, one commitment, one “I do,” and I am forever tied to this person. Well, at least until the kids grow up and start living their own adult lives.
When I think about how little our lives are on this planet, in this universe, I can pull in a deep breath and let it go.
Because we are such a small dot in the universe of existence.
This life, these worries, these tasks at hand – they are so, so small.
Have you seen the video on Facebook, that shows where we are on this planet, and the size of the other planets in relation to Earth? And then it cycles out to show the distance between Earth and the moon, and then the size of Earth beside our Sun, and then the size of our Sun compared with other stars?
And it goes further … this entire Milky Way galaxy in comparison to other known galaxies, and the distance from one to the next, and on and on.
We are so very small.
So when we stay up all night fraught with anxiety over what will happen next, what the outcomes will be, who likes us or who doesn’t, why do we indulge in such silly wastes of time?
It makes me wonder: why are we here in the first place? Why are we so infused with a sense of self-importance that we cannot see our true place in the cosmos?
But then, if we diminish our power to its true size and import, we might never climb out of bed in the morning.
And so…today. This moment. This knowing.
It’s a white day in Michigan with silent small snowflakes fluttering from the sky. At 9:30, I’ll go exercise. The dishwasher is emptied and waiting for new dishes to fill it. (I feel such a sense of accomplishment when tasks like those are done!)
There is literally no dirty laundry to do. It is all complete.
Last night, I had no kids and no husband at home to distract me and so I plowed through my to-do list to an immense sense of satisfaction. There are no heavy tasks ahead of me – just manageable ones.
My ex emailed me in a tirade about mixing up thermoses – apparently I have some of his and he has some of mine. Really. Is this even an issue? Frustrating, sure. But worth fighting over?
This ordinary life.
We are so silly sometimes. So very silly.
The point of writing about how ordinary my life is, is to stop me and take time to notice how beautiful the ordinary is. And it is beautiful.
I really enjoyed the yoga class last night. I slept deeply alone in my bed on new soft sheets. The music I am playing right now is one of life’s greatest creations – all music is.
And before I finish, I have to notice the wonderful people I’ve engaged with – deferring not to the frustrating moments but rather to those not worth mentioning, the truly ordinary ones.
The clients who are so kind and so knowledgeable.
The friends I just can’t find enough time to be with, it’s so good when we finally do meet up.
The fact that my darling daughter called me three times from her dad’s house yesterday just to talk.
The sounds of my sons’ voices, tender and loving, and even more than that, the way both of them came up to me without word yesterday in the early morning and enfolded me in a long hug.
Those moments make life worth living. An ordinary life. A very ordinary life indeed.