I have this metaphor for my mind and my days. It's lived with me for as long as I can remember. Even as a little girl, this method has been been buried deep in my soul.
My husband and many family members now even know the visual aid occupant in my noggin. You see, I look at my list of things to accomplish as doors that are open. And, my days from start to finish are centered around closing these doors.
Yes, visually I see my brain with all these open doors. Their wavy glass windows are etched with each chore or task.
"READING WITH ELI"
"MATH WITH CASEY"
"FINISH JOHNSON BAG"
"ORDER HENLEY FABRIC"
"REPLY TO EMAILS"
"SEND CARDS OUT"
All of these doors are just waiting for me to shut them. And, my day is centered around the goal of lying down at night with all doors shut only to wake up with a new set of doors open and waiting on me.
This is my mind's metaphor.
And, in this job of homeschooling, homemaking & creating, I am learning so very much about my open doors...
Sometimes taking the time to stop and peer inside those doorways can be very rewarding.
For, if I'm not careful, I will loose sight of the beauty that is right here before me in all of my hustle and bustle to shut a door.
The boys and I were working on our journals inside. Lunch was served, preliminary warm-ups were done, and the time to create & write was now. But the view out our kitchen doors was powerfully profound. In my muffled covert militance of a teacher trying to motivate and encourage and complete, I caught myself and my 2 students, gazing out and so very sluggish within.
It was at that moment that I knew my mind's metaphor for my days was on many levels bogus. While it served such great purpose for production and task mastery, it slighted inspiration; it seriously sank in the waters of experience and memories.
So, the back doors of our kitchen physically kicked the tail of my lifelong mindset that day.
And, as fast as the boys could move, our creating went out those open doors.
Immediately, I watched as inspiration and influence took a precious hold on my boys.
Without any motherly maintenance, Eli and Casey set up make shift tables and began to create.
Sketching and colors were peppered with laughter and talks about their day and what to draw next.
Ignited and infused with their surroundings, the boys found meaning in their midst.
And, so did I. With camera in hand and bare footed, I soaked in my surroundings. I felt the sun rays sink into my shoulders. I crinkled grass between my toes. I snapped shots of my boys being together and intentional with their projects. I listened to brothers speak words of affirmation to each other and even giggle about silly somethings that I was but a stranger to. It was then that I decided to settle in to the open doors around me.
Laundry half folded and not put away, a rug still waiting to find its home back where it belonged after being shook out, an empty wall ready for pictures stacked nearby to be hung.
Effortlessly, the boys' time of creating drew to a close as I sat in a chair nearby. Half hazard, their supplies were filed back into the correct compartments. Journals still lay in wait for the words to follow to describe and detail the pictures drawn. Half way into the yard, Casey yells out, "Mom, we're gonna write our stories in just a minute, okay?" And, I settled into those words. They get it. They get it far more than me. Life is about making the most of your nows. It is being responsible and not neglecting. Not neglecting both the need to accomplish and complete as well as not neglecting the need to feel and be filled with what matters most.
I replied, "Sounds like a plan, Casey Face. How about I remind you of your writing time in about 10 minutes?"
Casey, "That'll be good, Mama."
For the next 10 minutes, I sat unmoved watching bare footed boys race in the back yard. I watched them tag and tumble and tackle too. I looked over at unfinished work, and then reminded myself of the joy in the journey. At the 10 minute mark, I made my call to write. Fast feet came running and Eli handed me this single flower and said "Mom, I love you."
May this day serve as a reminder that there is joy in the journey. And, sometimes leaving doors open for just a little while will serve you with such a greater purpose and production than you ever intended.