Insight arrives at inconvenient times. When you’re in mid tumble and realize you should have tied your shoelaces better or after your dog slammed into your knees and you think, dam, why didn’t I step out of his way.
It’s difficult to push insight into brilliance though while sitting at the dining room table, my mind on the myriad challenges owning two businesses presents or how I can connect better with my children or husband or Willie.
Another high school in the States took 17 lives. What is the insight in that? Our young people are angry, damaged and some have little idea of consequences or respect for life.
Both John and I are feeling our age and we aren’t happy with what we’re experiencing. How many people before us have felt the same?
Will having Florence, at 98 and starting to feel her age, move into a home, make a difference in my stress level? Probably not, I’ll just find other things to fill the time and space taken up by caregiving for her.
I guess that is my insight. Life is life, it starts at one end and continues to the other, in between there’s reproduction, survival and the struggles inherent to breathing air and walking on two legs.
But maybe, just maybe, the times in between surviving and struggling are what is important and what we do with that time in between, whether it’s taking the 20 minutes to write at my kitchen table or the 20 minutes to walk Willie around the field, or to simply watch the birds at the feeder outside the patio door, is just as relevant as the basics need to continue on.
Presence, mindful presence, if that is all we can do in between, then I will take that. I will take it and stay present as I type each letter and put the period on this last sentence.
And then reality. Just as I sealed this last reflection with that final period, John calls me from the bedroom.
”Did you contact the electrician about the lights at the office?”
And here we go.
In between, I say, that’s it. In between.