The mountain is abuzz today, and it’s the steamiest day we’ve had since I’ve been here. It almost feels like Florida, and the mountain laurel next to the porch is practically exploding with blooms even as it appears to be just enjoying the mountain breeze. Since I’ve been here, Sundays have been a day when life slows down a little. We have a leisurely breakfast that almost always includes bacon; we do a little bit of work but not usually anything to difficult, and we either enjoy sitting for a spell on the porch or taking a drive on any one of the thousands of back roads that seem to be within spitting distance of here.
I’ve never had Sundays like that before. I’ve always either had a job to go to or work to be done at home. For me, part of this transition is learning how to not be working all the time, and it’s only a little surprising that doing this is one of the biggest challenges I’m facing. It seems I’m programmed to always be working, and when I’m not, I tend to feel guilty or as if I’m a selfish slacker instead of a good servant and human.
Today is my parents’ wedding anniversary, and though living together and not killing one another after 63 years is definitely something worth celebrating, I think it’s a pretty low key day at their house. My mom and I spent an hour on the phone this morning; most of it was spent trying to help her figure out how to identify and accept a FaceTime call, so we could see one another, and I’ll admit, by the time we got that far, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be seen because I’m sure my anxiety showed. But we made it through, and she took me on a virtual tour of my little house in Florida that will serve as my part-time in-residence writing retreat when I make the trip to visit them and probably for part of the winter, when I am less than enamored with the beauty of the white carpeting that makes every step feel like a form of torture.
But today, the sun is shining, and there was a hummingbird at my feeder this morning, so it feels like another day of living a dream I didn’t really think would ever come to fruition for me. There are loads of small jobs and bits of work I could be accomplishing today, and I know that I would feel profoundly productive if I were to attack any of them; however, I have to admit that a part of me feels great satisfaction in making myself not jump up and address all the ‘shoulds’ on my TO DO list, and that part has me thinking about finally opening up the box for that turntable I bought a million years ago so I could one day slide one of my favorite old, scratched up, vinyl albums out of its jacket and take a trip in a musical time machine.
Maybe that’s the highest form of productivity ever for someone like me who is always in high gear – learning to slow down and enjoy the moment and savor the way time can not just fly, but also how it can sometimes stand still or feel like it’s running in reverse just with the touch of a needle to vinyl.