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There’s so much I’d like to do with my life, and only so much time in which to do it: read through my monstrous TBR pile, publish, write the books I’ve planned, spend time with friends and family, make crafts I’ve planned or half-finished. I have so many dreams, and yet my time seems to get swallowed up doing other things. Things like Netflix bingeing, reading every link that comes up on my Facebook or Twitter feed, or playing stupid games on my tablet.
Is this really what I want to be doing with my life?
I’d much rather look back and say, “I put all of my energy into writing my books, into becoming the best writer possible, into becoming the best child of God possible,” than say, “I played every level of that game and beat my high score every week!” I want to do worthwhile things with my time, things that glorify God, things that make the world better, things that bring joy to myself and others.
I’m not sure how to switch gears. Things are so bad right now that I get on my tablet first thing in the morning and last thing before bed, to take a break, to get ready to do something, just because I’m bored… There are so many better ways I could be using my time.
I’ve been trying to consciously resist the urge to pop open my tablet whenever I’m bored. But habits are hard to break. I’m not sure what my next step is; every bad habit I develop I seem to find a different way to break, because nothing that’s worked before worked again. My brain is an odd place.
I want to live to the fullest, one day–one moment–at a time. For me, that doesn’t necessarily mean a life full of extraordinary experiences. It means more living a life full of the things that are important: God, friends, family, writing. A life full of serving God, serving others, hard work, honesty. Things that aren’t easy, unlike checking Facebook every five minutes. That’s the epitome of easy.
I need to find a way to pick what’s important over what’s easy. I’ve started here, and now I’m going to go do it some more, one moment at a time.
I haven’t been writing much lately, as you can see. In one way, this is a source of deep sorrow; my soul cries out for that experience again. But I’ve discovered so many other sources of joy, sources that have crowded out writing: the joy of food, cooked and savored and eaten with others; the joy of summer evening walks; the joy of late-night conversations, when the walls seem to come down and you’re mutually vulnerable and forgiving; the joys of spending time with friends, to leisurely have a cup of tea or a meal or watch a movie together; the joys of moving through life slowly, stopping to watch a butterfly or examine a flower or admire a beautiful old building.
I need to start writing again. I have several projects in the works, deadlines starting to loom, but it has been an amazing few weeks. I’ve learned to savor, to slow down, to enjoy things I’ve never made time for before. I love discovering joy in unexpected places!