It's another grey Wednesday morning, the kind of morning made for introspection, and such. Right now I'm thinking about the important things. The things, the moments, that really matter. And apparently it's not tea time.
I am a girl who, true to introverted form, needs my space. My quiet time to be alone and read, write, stare aimlessly at the ceiling, be. It's essential to my well-being and overall sanity, but I wonder if I have placed this alone time as too high a priority.
I'm not one of those people who needs coaxing to take a load off, take time for herself. That has never been a problem for me. I schedule "time to myself" like I would a dentist appointment or trip to the grocery store. I need it that much.
But lately, life has happened. I am working full time for the first time in my life and, boy, if that isn't a wake up call. Welcome to the real world, where I don't get to crawl into sweats at 3PM and read on the porch all afternoon. Thankful as I am for this job, I hate being in rush mode at all times, racing through the week until Friday finally comes.
And just when I am ready to wipe off my makeup and plant my yoga pants-butt on the couch, something happens on my sacred Friday. Weekend house guests come. Friends want to do dinner. There's a meeting at church. And before I know it, Sunday night is here and I have barely written a word, barely had time with God, barely slowed down. Part of me wants to get just a little bitter. Do people not understand that I work all week? That I need a break? That things are getting just a little too extroverted around here?
Never mind that it was only two short months ago that I was sitting home all alone, getting quite corpulent on books and tortilla chips, wondering aloud why I didn't have any friends. Any real purpose. Well here it is, sister. Here are your friends and purpose and job and activities and then some.
I give a sleepy smile as I write these words and shake my head. How interesting, that life is not actually all about me and what I want.
Maybe, (huh.) maybe life is about other people.
Not that it's wrong to need time away, even for just an hour, to refocus and think. I will never not need that. We all need that. But I'm realizing that once I push my whiny self aside, I can find real Joy in early morning conversations with friends over coffee and homemade raspberry bread. In having an intelligent conversation with my husband instead of saying, "Mm, not now, I just need to be alone, thanks." In being surrounded by other women, laughing so hard because it's way past my bedtime, and there's mascara streaming down my face and I'm basically a train wreck, but in the best way.
Of course I will continue to carve out time to pray, to breathe. I can't do those other things well without it. But I'm choosing to make people more important than myself, to push all those "But what about me?" thoughts aside to become intentional about investing in others. It's uncomfortable and foreign at first, but at the end of the day, gosh, it feels good.