10.03.2013

Nothing Like Some Parking Lot Sitting

A few minutes ago, I sat in my car in the parking lot of a frame shop and sat there, like for probably about nine minutes or so.  Didn't move.  It felt so good to just sit there and be for a spell.  

I believe I sat there like that in silence with nothing because I knew I wouldn't be able to just be when I returned home.  Because there's always something to do, and I'm not alone in feeling that.  I mean really, love a duck there's always something.  

And my wrists hurt something fierce this week.  I tried real hard to simply ignore it like the kid who won't stop blurting while I'm doing my teaching thing.  Ignored the twangs and pangs.  Now today they hurt so much I can't ignore.  I am fairly certain it's just over use or carpal tunnel or something of that nature from the many different jobs I'm rolling right now.  

All this is to say basically I'm old and falling apart and I sit in my car in the parking lot of a frame shop for nine minutes doing nothing.

But then on my way home, I started thinking about the concept of being busy and decided it's all very relative.  Busy is busy.  It's not going anywhere and mostly what I'm busy with are things I choose to do so I best take my sore wrists and throw them in the air to celebrate instead.  Celebrate the fact I am able to do many things.  Celebrate the fact people trust me to do things.  Celebrate the fact I am given the gift of having a new day every morning.  Celebrate the fact I am healthy.  Celebrate my friends and family who make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  

Yes, throw my wrists in the air.  

Besides I've also realized this about busy...the more busy I am, the more little tiny fabulous quiet moments mean to me.  Like right now, writing this out quick with every lamp in my house on while thinking about the popcorn I will soon air pop to eat for dinner because I'm very much like a kid and given the opportunity I will do things like eat popcorn for dinner.  

Moments mean more in busy seasons of life, including the moments with my people at the farm on beautiful fall evenings.


They mean more and are not taken for granted when they are smashed in between busies. 


Those moments?  


Yeah those.  They get squeeze hugged.  Dirt on faces and all.     

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