On Minutes Collecting
It’s always this time of year when I find myself in a mid-winter clump of sorts.
Work is long and hard. Sometimes it seems like the days are a mismatched jumble of mundane and stressful moments, with little snippets of leisure and joy laced between them.
And that’s okay.
The adult in me realizes now that much of life is just hard work, doing ordinary things that demand so much of us. It’s so easy to get swept away in a rhythm of monotony, and if we’re not careful, we can glaze over the little things that mysteriously reveal the big things, or perhaps were the big things all along.
Sometimes we have seasons of life that are more intense than others. Sometimes we have big, exciting news on our horizon and we are reminded all over again of how exasperatingly wonderful life is. Sometimes we have enduring trials that force us to do little else but survive.
But, I think, that most of this journey is stuffed full of very ordinary, everyday present-ness. And it can either be a easy path to a type of sluggishness mediocrity, or an invitation to welcome the really beautiful and transcendent realities in the midst of what we might call our boring present, because that is where they dwell.
I recently read a quote that said something like “the reason time exists is because we cannot experience everything at once.” So maybe, this week, instead of getting caught behind the perpetual passing of minutes, we could try to embrace our ordinary and sluggish moments as a collection of experiences, handed to us one at a time, all for own good.