I went to the grocery store. Big whoop, right?
The In-Between Diaries
Hey all,
First, for anyone wondering after my post last week, the bar mitzvah was beautiful. Moving. Not a blemish in sight. :)
Today I want to introduce a regular feature I’ll be adding to this newsletter I’m calling The In-Between Diaries. These are diaries of my real-life in-between times. Those times of the day that aren’t the sexy, going-for-the-gold, dream-chasing moments. Those little times of the day when I’m not doing much of anything, or feel like I’m just spinning my wheels.
I’m intensely interested in these moments in life, and how we might come to see them as our REAL LIFE instead of just the things we’re muddling through before we get to the “important stuff.”
I don’t know what I’ll find in publishing these diaries, but I’m hoping to explore questions like:
Where does my mind and attention go when I’m not directing it?
What intentions, beliefs seem to surface when I have set “no intentions”?
How can I feel more integrated instead of segregating my life into “moments that count” and moments that don’t?
Which brings me to the grocery store. A few weeks ago, I was chatting with my book coach, and made the throw-away comment, “Yeah, I haven’t really gotten anything done today.”
That’s when I heard the “Skriiiiiiiiiitch!” of a record scratching in my head. Huh? What I said to my coach was that I hadn’t gotten anything done. What I actually had done that day was drive to the grocery store, spent 40 minutes shopping for food for my family, drove home and spent 15 minutes putting away and organizing all the food.
I‘d fulfilled a basic function that provided for my family’s most basic needs. A task that ensured we’d all stay alive another week, yet, somehow, my brain didn’t count this as “getting anything done” that day.
Really, brain? I haven’t “done much of anything”? So which activities, exactly, count as “something” when giving an account of my day? And precisely how many “somethings” will be enough to claim “I’ve done something” each day?
My godmother told me a few weeks ago that she decides she’s successful if she accomplishes the one, main thing she sets out to do that day. That kind of fulfillment and satisfaction sounds incredible... and often unattainable for me.
Sure, when I’m being logical, I’ll reluctantly agree, “Yeah, yeah. Going to the grocery store is important.” But what’s underneath is a big, fat BUT. But it’s not as important as… working on a Pulitzer-prize winning essay. Closing a $10,000 client contract. Founding a nonprofit to feed hungry children in Africa.
I’m not sure where this insatiable not-enough-ness comes from, and what would finally satisfy its unquenched thirst. Would three “accomplishments” a day be enough? Five? Ten?
And which tasks would qualify? Would remembering to use the special toothbrush my dental hygienist told me I should use every day but never actually use count? Or remembering to water my recently-acquired, yet already-neglected plant babies?
Tending the needs of the several humans in my family, keeping a household running, and building a business requires I perform between 40 and 70 discreet tasks each day.
There are decisions to make, projects to tend, fires to put out. (Never mind getting any of them done with a modicum of grace.) Most weeks the number of tasks I want to complete is way more than any one person can actually do, especially in this back-to-school blitz of school events and meetings.
I don’t know how (or if) I’ll ever work up to feeling good about a one-and-done day.
This in-between moment, this throw-away comment, “I haven’t really gotten anything done today,” has all my experiment-loving neurons firing, but I’d love to hear from you, my lovely, smart readers:
Are you like me, saying you’ve “haven’t done anything/much today” though you’ve likely completed many tasks?
Or do you feel like you do “enough” most days? (If so, tell me your secret! What helps you feel satisfied with your efforts?)
Does going to the grocery store “count” for your brain?
“The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of our activity neutralizes our work for peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful." Thomas Merton. From Maria Shriver's Sunday Paper today.
This is the perfect post for me to read today. I've been thinking a lot about my newsletter theme for the month take a risk/make a leap and what mine might be... and experimenting a little but nothing was feeling right and yesterday I realized my risk is to learn to feel safe. More to come but this helps!! Also so delighted when I spark a bit of insight in you, brilliant one!