Ben Harper
It was a sunny day in August and I was running. The air was still and fresh and although I left the house in the early morning hours filled with frustration and zero desire to move my body, my feet propelled me forward and out the door I went. Those moments are typically quiet. They are the moments when I can sing out loud and be fairly confident that no one will hear me. They are the moments when I am not reading some drab textbook, responding to yet another research article, or answering to one of three small children. They have come to be the moments of quiet that I cherish. They have also come to be the moments of quiet that I detest. For in these moments my brain is without distraction and the reel of my life and where I am today spins so fast that it makes me dizzy sometimes.
Don’t get me wrong – life is a grand adventure and I love it! More than anything these are the moments when some of the small stuff hits me and makes me feel a slight pang of - dare I say… regret? It’s these little things that used to define who I am, or was, that I can’t seem to ever get to. It’s all of my “grand intentions” to match my intangible deeds that bring out that feeling of regret.
Unlike a 101 in 1001 list (which I wish this one could be) – these remain intentions…nothing more, not just yet. Behind this feeling of regret lies a realist – a realist who knows good and well that I have one more year of graduate school, three small children to lovingly raise, and a life to live. See, that’s where the regret comes in. I regret that I didn’t use the time when I had it – now knee deep in adulthood and living the life of what is supposed to be a “grown up” – time is a fleeting beast. And so, for my own therapeutic purposes…
my (short) list of good intentions:
1. Take a picture of Zoey with her messenger bag that my sweet friend took her time to sew just for her – and send it… to the seamstress, of course
2. Take a picture of Drew with his blankie that his great grandmother took her time to sew just for him – and send it…to the seamstress, of course
3. Print pictures of my own kids beyond 2003 and put them in frames
4. Send good, old-fashioned thank you notes – like the Hallmark daughter I was raised to be.
5. Send my nieces and nephews birthday gifts – within at least the same month of their birthday
6. Read a book that is not related to teaching, English language learners, or history
7. Go to church
8. Make Livy a quilt
9. Finish Livy’s baby book (yup, she’s creeping up on eight)
10. Finish Drew’s baby book (see a trend yet?)
11. Paint a picture with Drew
12. Sort through the boxes of photos and memories in the garage and actually savor them, find a home for them, and keep them near to be enjoyed
13. Write down the funny (and sometimes not so funny) things my kids say
14. Listen to people…truly listen
15. Delete my Facebook account (for obvious reasons, this is on the intention list – because it will probably never happen – although if I did delete it, the above fourteen items would probably make it from the “intentions” list to the “deeds accomplished” list)
There's more...lots more, but this is about all the self-deprecating I can take for one day.
As I tip toe up on my thirty fifth year, I hope that I can look back at this list and stop to think before I say yes to anything. I want to say yes to more of what’s real and no to more of what isn’t. Maybe I’ll make a “When I’m 35 I will … list” – a capital idea!
All this is just to say that I miss the days of not being so busy, having more time than I know what to do with, and finding true happiness sitting in the center of a tire swing.
