A Matter of Perspective

I was in the shower yesterday morning and thinking of how late it was, and how much my day so far had not gone as planned. It was nearly 10:00 and the house looked like a swamp. Dishes filled the sink, baskets of clean laundry blocked the path to my bed, and dirty socks covered the equally dirty carpet. I was supposed to have taken care of all these things by the time I took a shower. I had also planned to run errands and take a little trip to the local thrift shop before picking up the kids from school. 

But then Jake woke up with the sniffles. "I can't go to school," he told me with shoulders slumped and eyes red at the edges. 

Remembering how he had been complaining about school--about a few girls who have made a game of grabbing him and kissing him in particular--I wondered if he was only being dramatic. But then he snuffled again and could hear rivers of mucus flowing in his nasal passages. So, there you have it. By being excited for my day, I had jinxed it. With all of my plans scratched, I sent Jake to bed with advice to go back to sleep. And that's what I wanted to do, too. But I couldn't. So I took a shower instead.

As the water ran, my thoughts began. What a waste! I said to myself. I haven't gotten anything done! I continued. I just don't have enough time to do everything on my list, I complained. Then my friend Epiphany knocked on my brain. Epiphany said that I should stop thinking about what I had (or in this case, had not) accomplished, and ask myself what I had enjoyed that morning instead. So I did. I thought of how I had looked at some baby pictures of Paul sucking his thumb. That made me remember how when he wanted to say something, he'd remove his thumb with a sound similar to uncorking a wine bottle. He'd jabber about what happened to be on his mind, then re-cork himself. I also recalled how, underneath his thumb, you could always detect a slight upturn of his lips. As I washed my hair, I thought of how the night before my husband had remarked how vividly he could remember seeing that grinning, be-thumbed child in the rear view mirror as he drove around town. That memory of long ago, and the smile on my husband's face when he and I reminisced about it were surely things I had enjoyed. 

By this time, Epiphany was positively giddy as I added to my list of morning enjoyments: an unusual but tasty breakfast of steamed spinach mixed with a dollop of mayonnaise, a therapeutic stretching workout, and this nice warm shower. To top it off, when I turned off the water, God gave me a little gift, a bird singing in the tree outside my window. It sounded like a squeaky toy, or a child's bicycle horn, which made me think of riding bikes in the summer. And for a moment, I felt the joy of coasting down the hill on my vintage bicycle, ringing the silver bell attached to the handle bars, my children at my side, laughing and hollering as we raced to the imaginary finish line.

Suddenly, I felt that the morning had been productive. I was calm, and even happy. And yet, I felt a bit incomplete, a little selfish, even. That's when Epiphany suggested that it would be nice to make some enjoyment for someone else, too. So I excavated a book from under a pile of dirty clothes and read it to my sick child. As my son listened to stories of Laura Ingalls Wilder's first home in the Big Woods, the sun lit up the room, reminding me that winter will soon give way to spring. 

I never did get the laundry put away. But you know what? I really don't care. Because I've changed my perspective on these matters. I've decided that it's more important to see, hear, feel and taste what's around me. I no longer feel beholden to my to-do list, because you can't always plan your enjoyments. Sometimes you have to take them as they come. And come they will, if only you will let yourself notice them. 

Comments

[Dana]

Another great one for the book!!!

[MaryB]

It's so true...it's all in our perspective. This reminds me of a story (that can be found here: https://mail.google.com/mail/?hl=en&shva=1#search/simple+truths/120041909c90a407)
It's about a man who finds his son's old journal in the attic and as he reads it he comes across an entry date that coincides with an entry he made in one of his old business journal things. His entry says, "Wasted the whole day fishing with Jimmy. Didn't catch a thing." and the little boys journal entry says, "Spent the day fishing with Dad. It was the best day of my life."
So, thanks for reminding me to put on those rose colored glasses and look at life anew!

[Alicia Fish]

Man, it is true. No matter how much I get done in a day, I can only think about what I didn't get done. I hate that. I would like to meet that friend of yours. What was her name?Epiphany?

[Lisa]

Love it! Your words are so true! Thanks, your new-found perspective has helped mine as well.