Over the last week, I have struggled with posting here in the morning with house tidying and renos, outings, and a short trip to a friend’s cottage to pick up a child. We just haven’t been home. And if we are home, we are trying to live amidst the mess and the chaos. We have eaten out more.
We are without a rhythm. I’m not referring to routine or ritual. I am referring to an overall flow of family life. I recently heard or read “the storm before the calm.” (Please forgive my lack of referencing the source. I’ve been a little scattered.)
The storm before the calm.
There is a hectic waiting. I wait for the upstairs to be finished so I can finish my decluttering of the entire house. I wait for a child (or two) to come home so that we can have family time and resume our normally scheduled programming. I wait for us to have a clear space on the main floor before we cook and eat a family dinner. I wait to finish these scribbles until late at night because there are more pressing needs – breakfast and preparing for another outing so that my husband can focus on the work that needs to be done at home.
It is all a dance. A dance with accepting that this is the way it is – for now – and doing whatever it takes to move to the next step. I am tempted to stop mid-stride because I can’t keep up with the tempo. I think two steps ahead and step on people’s feet in the process.
I long for a slower pace and a more steady rhythm. I know it will come. But this is the part where life spins me, twirls me, and I am taking some crazy leaps across the dance floor. We are moving in double time because this is what we need to do to get to the steady rhythm.
Today I am making a point to do this scribble this morning as my children wait for me to begin our day. An early bedtime tonight is all I need to keep up with this rhythm of doing and moving. Today I take things one step at a time – one deliberately choreographed move at a time. Today I can catch my breath.
Today is where I can choose a new song to dance to.
100 scribbles…hurriedly writing the here and now.