A Post a Day in May 2019 #30: Full-on focus

-

I have pledged to write a new post for this blog every day in May. 

Many summers ago, our friend Laurie was never in town. She seemed to be on a perpetual canoe trip — or returning from one or packing up for another. Her whole summer appeared to have been spent on the water. When I asked her about it, she said, indeed, she had been on many canoe trips, and loved every minute. Mind you, she said, nothing else got done. She had made the decision to spend the summer on the water and that’s what she did. The house suffered, the garden was neglected, the mail was ignored, and Laurie had the summer she wanted. 
Photo by Laura Lefurgey-Smith on Unsplash

I often think of Laurie and her approach to that one summer, and I try to bring a bit of that single-minded focus into my life. For me, the challenge is two-fold: managing the mountain of priorities, obligations and chores that litter the everyday, and not letting the full-time job I have overshadow all else. Actually it’s a three-fold challenge, and the third fold is almost the most challenging: figuring out what I actually and really want to spend my time and energy on. 

During this month of May, my full-on focus has been the writing of a daily post for my blog and, as I near the end, I can see that I’ve achieved it by doing what Laurie did: ignoring all manner of other things that tend to pull at my energy and attention. My laptop on the dining room table has been the headquarters for my mission, a focal point around which I have centred my time and energy. I have continued to go to work and attend to domestic obligations, even gotten to the cottage on weekends, but the daily posts have been my priority — not only in physical writing practice but in what I have given space to in my mind: All things have been considered in relation to the writing of posts.

I’m happy about this and I’m already wondering what my full-on focus might be in June, but before I divert attention to that immediate future, I want to pause for a moment (in among my self-congratulations on having arrived, almost, at the end of this Post a Day in May lark) to say this: The conundrum at the centre of the ever-present mix in our lives of could, should and might lies the question of want. 

How easy, or not, is it for any of us to say, “this is what I want, really want”? I’m not talking about tofu for supper; I’m talking about what to do with my spare time, with my talent and desire, with my life. Options abound, yet I fear that many of us are so hamstrung by obligation and habit that even playing with the idea of want is difficult. 

And “playing with” is key, here, I believe, either on your own or with a friend. Make some time to play with the crazy notion that some of your time could be used to do what you actually want to be doing. It’s a good first step towards experiencing the satisfaction of your own version of Laurie’s perpetual canoe trip that summer all those years ago.  

Thanks for reading. 

- - - - 

Writers want to be read; at least, this writer wants to be read, so comments, rebuttals and feedback are all welcome. Subscribe to the blog to receive the posts direct into your email inbox. 

Comments

  1. FintaMay 30, 2019 at 7:44 AM

    This year I have two reasons for being sorry that May is over. The usual one is the end of the May flowers. The second one is the end of your daily musings. I hope you keep this up a bit in June, if not every day, then perhaps every week?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated. Please be respectful.

Popular posts from this blog

Listening for the piano / Thinking about grief

-
Image
Grief is not a land in which I have travelled much, though I routinely explore it via others’ experience. I am drawn to do this as a student is drawn to the masters: To observe, to sit with, to wonder if those others’ experiences might help prepare me for my own when I find myself in that place. Will it? Sara Paretsky, author of the V.I. Warshawski mystery series, says that the grief over her long-time husband’s death hit her like a grand piano falling out of the sky onto her head. There is no pre-mourning, she says. Nonetheless, I persist in my studies: Memoirs of loss. Stories of grief. Tales of survival. I sit with those experiences. The words, the feelings, the anguish wash over me. And I ask myself: Will the sun rise tomorrow? Will I see it when it does?  Should I worry about this? Should I just expect, presume that what has always been will always be? Absurd. It will not always be. The loves of my life are all older, are all old. 95, my mother. Almost 80, my p...
Read more

Anniversary post: This year marks 31 together

-
Image
Amanda and Val: many years ago and today.  Man, look how young we were. Sheesh. Thirty-one years and counting certainly shows. But who in their right mind would care about wrinkles or grey hair when it is a good and generous love that has propelled us through the years together.  Every good story is told through both summary and scenes. Val & Amanda’s story: The summary A generous love that has withstood the challenges of two bouts of cancer and multiple joint replacements, of job changes and career disappointments, of cats found and cats lost, of parents living and parents dying. Two women, together, building a good life. Amanda: Three scenes April 1997: Val and I are driving from Winnipeg  down through the Dakotas and Wyoming and Utah to Arizona, camping in a tent along the way and marvelling at what we can do together, still, after Val’s cancer diagnosis earlier that year. At a roadside cafe somewhere in Utah, a woman asks me if we are sisters. Without skipping a b...
Read more

If pride comes before a fall, what comes after disappointment?

-
Image
Disappointment is not something any of us aim for, I’m sure. The very last thing I ever want to be told by someone is that they are disappointed in me. But this week, I have been very disappointed in others. Life goes on, but that niggling thread of “if only” and “why could it not have been different” lingers in the corners of my mind. Last week’s lightening-quick sale of our cottage ended in disappointment all round when the deal fell through at the final hurdle. The details are not what matter here; what matters is that age-old life lesson about counting your chickens before they’re hatched and sharing good news before it is fully rooted and secured. But who among us has not jumped the gun? Presumed that all would go as promised, as planned? Believed in the goodness of people and trusted that the story would unfold as it had begun — smoothly, seamlessly, successfully? Ah, well. Sometimes it just doesn’t. So we find ourselves at a new beginning, with a different round of showings and...
Read more